A Different Kind of Family
by livvylane
Summary: When Peter was recruited into the Avengers, he expected a lot of training and fighting. He certainly didn't expect a grumpy guy with a metal arm, a deaf archer who was a bit obsessed with pranks, or a sleep-deprived genius who had decided that Peter was his new project, and he certainly didn't expect Steve Rogers to act like such a... father.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel.**

* * *

Peter Parker knew from the moment that he walked up to his house that something was up.

It probably had something to do with the slight buzzing in the back of his mind, warning him that something was coming up that he wasn't going to like (though, it was a bit different than normal, and he didn't think that it was any kind of physical danger). It definitely had something to do with the black, sleek car with tinted windows that had to be illegal that sat parked in his driveway.

The car had to have cost a fortune and as far as he knew, his Aunt May didn't know anyone with that kind of money.

Frowning slightly, and a bit worried that there was some supervillain in the house holding his Aunt hostage (he really needed to stop being so paranoid), Peter walked up to the door and slowly let himself in.

"Aunt May?" he called into the house. It was quiet, unnervingly so, but as he walked in and spotted the living room, he found the two occupants.

His Aunt sat silent on the couch, fingers gripping the cup in her hands so hard that they turned white. Her lips were pinched and her skin was a pale white. Peter froze at the sight. Had something happened?

A man sat in a chair across from her. He wore a suit, which Peter found especially odd, considering that he was simply sitting in their living room. He held a file in his hands and, as Peter cautiously walked in, he spotted the name "Spider-Man" scrawled out in black on the front.

His blood ran cold.

"What's going on?" he asked weakly. Every nerve in his body was telling him to run, because someone knew and that someone had most likely just told his Aunt, if her reaction was anything to go by, and they were going to tell everyone and Peter was going to be in so much trouble and what if someone came after him and hurt his Aunt and-

"We were just talking about your little nights on the streets," the man in the suit said, expressionless. He didn't even look up, staring at Aunt May. The women didn't even look up at Peter.

He laughed nervously, because everything that he had kept hidden for the past six months was suddenly crumbling around him, "I-I don't know what you're talking about. My nights are indoors. Trust me, I wish they weren't, but my social life is equivalent to-"

"Peter," Aunt May's voice broke, looking at him with teary eyes, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?" he asked, feigning innocence, "Aunt May, you know that my social life is nonexistent."

The man in the suit glanced away from Aunt May now, turning to Peter. He sat the folder on the coffee table with a loud 'thud' and opened it up. Peter easily caught sight of the first paper, one that showed a report on Peter Parker.

He swallowed, "Okay, man, this is getting a bit creepy. I don't even know who you are."

"My name is Agent Phil Coulson," the man said, peering at Peter, who suddenly felt like a trapped animal, "We know that you are the vigilante that goes by the name Spider-Man, Mr. Parker."

Peter forced himself to laugh, shaking his head, "You have the wrong guy, Sir. I can't even fight the bullies at my school, much less criminals."

As his response, Coulson simply turns the page in the folder, now revealing several pictures of Peter dressed up as Spider-Man. Peter leaned forward, staring in shock at the photos. One particularly disturbing one showed him in his bedroom, dressed in his suit except for his mask which he had obviously just taken off as it was seen tossed on his bed. His hands were tugging at his suit, in the process of taking it off, and he felt sick to his stomach.

"H-How did you get those?" he asked, voice shaking despite his attempt at controlling it. The fact that someone had been following him and he hadn't noticed sent dread down the spine, and he shuddered at the realization that whoever the person was had watched him take off his clothes.

Coulson's face was still emotionless as he spoke, "We've had an agent tailing you for a month now. SHIELD has taken interest in the vigilantes lately, and we've taken special interest in you once we realized your age."

Peter flushed at that and bit his lip to keep from making a snarky comment. Now was not the time.

"We've already informed your Aunt of the situation at hand, but I will reiterate myself for you. Please, sit."

Almost as if he was possessed, Peter found himself sitting down beside his aunt. She seemed to have broken out of her shock, and was not staring at Peter with an expression of sorrow mixed with horror. Peter awkwardly fiddled with the sleeves of his hoody, doing his best to keep his eyes on Coulson.

The man flipped the paper again and gestured to what looked to be a report on vigilantes in general, "About a month and a half ago, a man who claimed to be a vigilante attempted to take down a rapist. He shot at the man, but the bullet hit an innocent bystander and killed her. Due to this incident, SHIELD was forced to start paying more attention to vigilantes. Obviously, our eye was pulled to you fairly quickly once we started to suspect that you were under eighteen."

Peter frowned slightly, "How did you know that?"

He was avoiding any words with his aunt, currently. He knew that he would have to speak with her soon, but he couldn't bring himself to even look at her. He knew what he would find in her eyes: anger, horror, disappointment. He knew that when the man left, he'd be having a long conversation with her and he'd most likely be grounded for the rest of his life.

"Trust me," Coulson said, catching Peter's eye, "We're trained. We know when someone is a kid."

"I'm fifteen," he protested weakly, but shut up at the look that his aunt shot him.

Coulson simply sighed, "Look, we've analyzed your fighting techniques," he said as he flipped the page yet again. Several photos of Peter, dressed as Spider-Man, fighting villains appeared. His aunt gave a choked sob at the sight and Peter kept his eyes firmly on the photos, "You seem to possess abnormal strength and agility, which helps you in your fights. However, it is easy to tell that you are untrained, and you rely on your… webs… too much. We can't, in good conscious, allow a child with no training to continue fighting crime."

Peter looked up sharply, sucking in a breath, "You can't make me stop being Spider-Man."

"Peter Benjamin Parker!"

He winced, hesitantly glancing over at his Aunt.

"You will respect this man and you will listen to what he has to say, Peter."

He nodded slightly, though he knew that whatever the man said, he wasn't going to like it.

Coulson waited for a moment until he was sure that he wasn't going to be interrupted, and began to speak, "We cannot allow you to continue without training. If you get hurt or killed or it is revealed that you are underage, we would be the ones who had to deal with the backlash. However, we also know that if we force you to stop being Spider-Man, crime in Queens will skyrocket. So, we have an offer for you."

He flipped the page again. This time, a page titled, "The Avengers Initiative", appeared. Peter glanced up at him with raised eyebrows, waiting for an explanation.

"I am sure that you are familiar with The Avengers," Coulson said smoothly.

He nodded, "Of course. Everyone knows who they are."

That was the truth. Ever since the group of superheroes had stopped that alien invasion, The Avengers were a household name. They were constantly on the News and there were action figures of them sold in every store. Queens might have Spider-Man, but the world had The Avengers.

"I am the man who helped put that team together," Coulson explained, "My offer to you is to put Spider-Man on the team."

The entire room fell silent. Peter's mouth fell open and he stared at the man in surprise. He sat there, waiting for the man to start laughing, to show that he was joking, but that never came. His face was completely serious and one look at his Aunt showed that she had already had the conversation with him.

"I-I can't," Peter said, eyes wide, "They're the Avengers! Aliens aren't really my forte. I work with crime, not supervillains. And if I'm part of the Avengers, how will I even be able to fight crime? Besides, don't you think it's more-"

Coulson held up one hand in a calming gesture, "We know. We know. You will not be part of any of the major fights yet but you will be being trained by the Avengers. You will also still be allowed to continue your duties as Spider-Man."

Peter chewed on his lip, thinking it over, "But… I have school. And don't the Avengers all have to live at the tower?"

There was a pause, "Sort of. The Avengers all have rooms at the tower, yes, and you would live there if you choose to accept it. However, not all of them live there full time. Thor, especially, spends most of his time elsewhere. You would need to live there but you will be allowed to visit your Aunt whenever you like. You will still be able to continue going to school, but you will need to come straight back to the tower after in order to train. Stark has already agreed to allow you to use his driver to get to and from, so you won't need to worry about that."

Somehow, the mention of Stark, as in Tony Stark, as in the freaking superhero Iron Man, shakes him out of his shock.

"Look, I appreciate the offer and everything, but I really like my-"

"He'll do it."

"Aunt May!"

She pursed her lips as she turned to him, "Peter, he's right. I know that I won't be able to talk you into staying out of danger. I can't protect you from danger. The least I can do is hope that you can be able to protect yourself, and you can do that if you train with them."

"But… my identity," Peter trailed off, going back to Coulson. He was grabbing at straws. He knew that they were right, and honestly he would love to be able to train with the Avengers, but he worked alone. That was how it had always been. It would be such a change. He wasn't sure if he was ready.

Coulson simply nodded, "You will not have to reveal your identity, don't worry. The Avengers will know, and SHIELD already knows, but that's it."

There was a pause, and then Peter met Coulson's eyes. He took a deep breath, "I'll do it."

* * *

 **AN: Hope you like the prologue!**


	2. Meet the Team

Steve Rogers really wasn't sure what he thought about Coulson's idea to add another member to the team.

None of them knew the new recruit besides the news reports that they had heard about Spiderman. They weren't all too sure about what his abilities included or how well he would work with the team or even who he was. Coulson had provided them with his name, but that was it.

He had a sneaking suspicion that Tony knew more about him. Actually, he knew that Tony knew more about him. He'd be shocked if he didn't. All he needed, after all, was the name and JARVIS to help him do some research.

Currently, they were all surrounding the table, eating dinner (pizza, as Sam had refused to cook due to Clint having somehow managed to get a bird in his room while he was sleeping). Tony and Bruce were deep in discussion on… something science-related, he was sure. Clint was sneaking pizza under the table to Lucky, his dog. Bucky sat beside Steve, staring at his plate in silence.

After the whole fiasco where Bucky, being brainwashed by Hydra, trained to kill Steve, they had managed to track him down. He wasn't with Hydra, having apparently escaped, and was having some rather horrible memory problems. When they had first found him, he hadn't even remembered being the Winter Soldier, but he'd recognized Steve.

He'd been getting better with his memory. Bruce was worried about it at first, and now he was worrying that, once Bucky got more of his memory back, he would revert back to the Winter Soldier.

"Agent Coulson and Mr. Parker are here," JARVIS announced to the group at the table.

"Send them up, JARVIS," Tony announced, barely pausing in his conversation with Bruce. He was showing him something on a tablet, and they seemed deep in discussion.

A minute later, the elevator opened, and Phil Coulson walked out with a teenager following. The boy was staring around, looking impressed and fascinated with the décor and technology.

And hold on? A teenager?

He frowned lightly and was about to say something when Tony suddenly launched to his feet, "Agent! You got the Spiderkid."

The kid, Peter, turned wide eyes to Tony, staring at him as if he was looking at a celebrity. Which, he kind of was.

"I'm Tony Stark," Tony introduced, pulling Peter over to the table with a dramatic flourish, "This is the team. Team, this is our newest member."

"He's a kid," Steve said, frowning. He definitely did not approve. Kids were not meant to be superheroes, much less doing the things that he knew Spiderman had done. He'd seen the news articles. Spiderman fought rapists and muggers, and the kid couldn't be older than sixteen.

Peter looked slightly offended. He glanced at Coulson, "Did they not know?"

Coulson did not respond to Peter, but he did speak to Steve, "Peter is fifteen. I'd rather him be on a team than be alone."

His tone was firm and left no room for arguing. Steve guessed that he could see the logic in that, but he would much rather not have the kid anywhere near the danger that they were involved in.

"I trust that you will make sure he settles in," Coulson said in that same, tense voice that he held whenever around the Avengers. It had, after all, been hectic when they discovered that Coulson was actually not dead. They had not been happy.

Things were better now, but it was still definitely tense.

"Of course," Tony responded. He had an arm around Peter, who looked rather awkward. His eyes were wide, scanning the group of people, and he was gently trying to pull away. Tony didn't seem to notice as he started gesturing to each of them in turn, "That right there is Sam Wilson, or Falcon. He's the best cook ever and once Clint apologizes, you'll be able to taste it."

Peter looked confused but didn't have the chance to question his words before Tony had continued on, "That's Natasha Romanoff. You know her as Black Widow. She's dangerous. Stay on her good side. That's Bruce Banner, also known as the Hulk. I've seen your grades. You're good at science. You two should get along really well. Same with me. That's Capsicle-"

"Steve Rogers," Steve cut him off before he could say something offensive, "Need anything, come to me."

There was a pause. Tony seemed slightly put out before he continued, "Thor is currently in Asgard but he'll probably pop in sometime this week. Bucky Barnes is there and he's a bit of a loner. Am I missing someone? Oh, that's Clint."

Steve glanced over at the archer, who seemed to not even be paying attention to them. He was staring down at Lucky, feeding him yet another slice of pizza under the table.

Natasha nudged him and he glanced up. He spotted Peter and furrowed his eyebrows, as if he hadn't seen him. His fingers went up to his ears, turning his hearing aids back on, before he asked, "Who's the kid?"

Steve sighed, shaking his head lightly, "Have you not been listening to anyone this whole time?"

"Tony and Bruce were talking science again," Clint said with a shrug, "Is anyone going to answer my question."

Tony just smirked, "Congratulations," he said dramatically, "It's a boy. He's ours now."

* * *

Dinner went about as well as Peter could have expected. Well, okay, it was utter insanity. Clint had tried to start a food fight half way through by throwing peperoni at Sam and Steve Rogers (Captain freaking America) had literally threatened to send him to his room. Tony had had some kind of breakthrough and had bolted off to his lab, knocking a glass of water across Natasha's lap, who in turn went chasing after him.

Peter supposed that this should make him nervous about being part of such a team, but it actually helped him relax a lot. He found himself laughing openly at the ridiculousness that was the Avengers despite Steve's consistent apologizing for their actions.

Afterwards, Steve led him to his new room.

"This is your room," he announced as he arrived at the door to Peter's new room. He opened it and let Peter step inside, "You've got a bathroom attached. You can decorate it how you want later, but you should have all your necessities."

That was true, Peter did, and more than he needed. There was a large, king sized bed pushed up against the wall. A desk was against a large window that gave him a view of the entire city, and a brand new laptop sat waiting for him. There was a dresser in the corner, and a flat screen television was placed on the wall so that he could watch the television from the bed.

"Wow," he said, "It's great."

He hadn't expected to get a new laptop out of it, and certainly not a television. Tony Stark was part of the team, though.

Steve smiled and put a hand on his shoulder, "Well, kid, breakfast is at seven. We're going to be training tomorrow, so be ready for that. I'm going to guess that you're going out to… stop crime, or whatever you do."

Peter nodded, "I patrol the streets. It's my job."

The man didn't seem like he liked that answer, but he simply nodded. He tossed Peter what looked to be a little plastic object, "This is a com. I'd like for you to wear it while you're out. You don't have to say anything unless something goes wrong."

Peter observed it for a moment, frowning, "I really don't need-"

"You're part of the team now," Steve cut him off, arms crossed, "If you need back up, we're there."

A small smile graced his lips. He guessed that he could get used to a team. It probably would have helped in a lot of situations when he'd been alone and being shot by the police.

"Okay," he said with a nod as he put the ear piece in, "Thanks, Cap."

"Call me Steve."

* * *

It was a nice night for patrolling. Peter managed to stop a mugging of a college-aged guy. He webbed the would-be mugger to the wall and left a nice little note for the police.

He swung across the city for a while, making sure nothing happened. Eventually, he got a bit bored so he took some pictures of himself. Jameson was going to have a field day with those.

Before heading back to the tower, he allowed himself to perch up on a building and observe the city. With the com in his ear, he felt like someone had his back. While he still wasn't sure if they actually did (he hadn't even been with them for a day, after all), it was nice to have some reassurance. It made things easier.

He briefly wondered if things would continue like this. It seemed to be going good, all things considered. Aunt May had been right when she said that it would be good for him. It definitely seemed like it was going to be fun.

There was training, though. Peter had never actually had any kind of training, so he wasn't sure how that was going to turn out. He didn't know how the Avengers acted in training but if it was anything like their fights (which he'd seen plenty of in the news), it was going to be anything but easy.

With that thought in mind, he started swinging back to the tower. A good night's sleep would probably be the best thing that he could get in order to prepare.

* * *

 **AN: Sorry that's it's so short. I wanted to get Peter with the Avengers. Next chapter is going to be training and Bucky will find a friend. Thank you for all of the reviews! I never would have imagined that I would get so many! I'll try and post as often as I can. I'm on Summer Break, so it should work out.**


	3. Lucy

Just like Steve had said the night before, breakfast was served at seven. Or, at least, it was supposed to be.

When Peter walked into the kitchen, the rest of the Avengers were seated at the table. Clint had his arms crossed and was glaring at Sam, who stared up at the ceiling innocently. Steve had his head in his hands, looking resigned.

"What's going on?" he asked awkwardly, not knowing if he should ask. He didn't know them, after all. The total amount of conversation that he had had with the team consisted of dinner the night before.

Tony was sipping out of a coffee cup. He sat it down and rubbed his forehead, as if he had a headache, before speaking, "Wilson over there has refused to cook. Again."

"Not until Clint apologizes," Sam said with a small smirk.

Peter raised his eyebrows at the group in front of him. When he had agreed to join them, he hadn't thought that he would be joining a group of children.

"Alright…" he said awkwardly, standing in the middle of the kitchen, "Uh, is Sam the only one who knows how to cook?"

There was a tense silence as everyone stared at each other, almost as if they had never considered that. Bruce spoke up after a moment, "But Sam always cooks."

Peter tried hard not to laugh at that. He never imagined hearing the Hulk sound so… whiny.

"But he's not going to cook," Peter said slowly, "I can kind of cook, if you guys want, but you'd probably be eating burnt pancakes or something."

The group looking horrified at the idea. There was a pause and then Bucky stood up stiffly.

"I can cook."

He walked stiffly over to the stove and started searching around the cabinets for pancake mix. Steve smiled happily as he watched him, "Bucky used to cook all the time during the Depression. He could make a meal out of anything."

Peter was surprised by this fact as he sat down at the table. Bucky had been with Steve during the- Oh! Peter was quickly reminded that Steve had a friend during the Depression named Bucky but he had died, hadn't he? How was he still alive? And so young?

He opened his mouth to voice his question but was cut off from speaking as Tony turned to Bruce and loudly began talking about his latest project. It was something called Ultron. Peter didn't really know what he was talking about, but he understood more than he thought he would. He also agreed with Bruce that it was impossible.

As it turned out, Bucky was a pretty good cook. Tony still complained that it wasn't Sam's cooking, though.

* * *

Since it was a Saturday, Peter didn't have to go to school. He was glad about that, considering the fact that they would be training. He really didn't feel like going to school to deal with Flash and then coming back to the tower and train.

He arrived in the gym at noon, dressed in his suit and ready to fight. All of the Avengers, except Tony, were already there when he arrived.

"Ah, the Spiderkid has arrived," Clint said. He had a bow and arrow in his hands and, as Peter entered, shot it at a target. It hit the bull's eye.

"It's Spiderman," he corrected, crouched on the ground, "I thought you used exploding arrows and stuff?"

Clint grimaced as he pulled another arrow out from behind him. The arrows were normal, with no special effects on them at all, "Steve won't let me use them indoors."

"Not after last time," Steve walked up, narrowing his eyes at Clint. He turned to Peter, "You're just in time. We're pairing you up with Nat today. Both of you have similar agility and she can teach you some moves so that you're not relying on your web… things so much."

It was at that moment that Tony seemed to enter. He wasn't dressed in his armor, wearing simple sweat pants and a t-shirt, "Speaking of those webs… how do you shoot those? Do you have holes in your wrists or do they open and close at will?"

Before he could continue with random guesses, Peter shot a web at the ceiling and slung towards him. Tony stared at it in fascination as Peter showed him the web shooters, "No, the webbing isn't part of my powers at all, actually. I created it. The shooters are under my suit."

"Incredible," Tony breathed, "How'd you make them?"

"Not now," Steve said as he walked over to them, "You can talk science later. We're training now. Tony, you're sparring with Bruce today."

Tony sighed, looking incredibly put out, but walked over to where Bruce was waiting.

"Bruce hates training," Steve explained to him as he noted how Bruce stood awkwardly by the wall, "He doesn't like to fight. Usually, he doesn't have to. If he does, the Hulk comes out. We're trying to teach him how to fight on his own without the big guy."

Peter nodded. That made sense, he supposed. The Hulk caused a lot of destruction and if there was ever a fight where they needed to avoid him coming out and Bruce was there, he would need to be able to protect himself somehow.

He made his way over to where Natasha was stretching. She was dressed in her usual suit. It looked like it protected her a lot more than Peter's protected him. Spandex was useless when weapons got involved and it was constantly ruined. He was just lucky that he'd learned how to create them again. The money that he got from The Bugle helped with that.

"Alright, kid," Natasha said as he walked up, "Stretch first."

He frowned lightly at that. He never stretched before a fight. Still, saying no to Black Widow sounded like suicide, so he started to stretch.

Once they had finished stretching, Natasha spoke up, "Alright. No weapons. That includes those webs of yours."

He frowned at that. He couldn't use his web shooters? He really wasn't sure what else he could do, then.

Natasha got into a fighting stance, "Ready?"

He tried to mimic her and felt extremely awkward, "Uh… ready."

At his words, his spidey sense jumped alive and he jumped into the air as Natasha swung out her legs to try and trip him. Another buzzing at the back of his head alerted him to her fist swinging out at him and he dove to the side.

It looked like he was going to be purely on defense for this round.

He did a flip to avoid being kicked, and then ducked from a punch. Her fist landed on his side and knocked him off balance and he just barely managed to avoid a kick to the chest.

He was suddenly very thankful that most of the people that he fought had little training. He wasn't sure how much longer he could go on with her. He definitely wouldn't be able to beat her. He couldn't even get a hit in.

It was only two minutes in when she jumped onto his back and flipped him over so that his face was pressing against the ground when she beat him.

He breathed deeply, eyes wide. She had her entire body on top of him, her legs wrapped in his and his arms pulled tightly behind his back to prevent him from moving "You give up?"

"Yeah, yeah," he nodded, because there was absolutely no way he was getting out of this, super strength or not.

She let him go, hopping off with ease. Peter pulled himself into a sitting position and glanced up at her. She was frowning.

It took him a moment to realize that she was frowning at his suit. There was a small rip in the side. It wasn't anything big and he could probably fix it easily without worry.

"Is that suit just spandex?" Natasha asked, sounding disbelieving.

He nodded slowly, not really understanding what the whole issue was, "Yeah," he said, then felt like defending himself, "It's the best I could afford."

She pursed her lips and suddenly turned on her feet, walking swiftly over to where Tony and Bruce were sparring, "Tony. He needs a new suit."

Peter gaped at her, "Um, no, I don't."

He liked his suit. He didn't need a new one.

She pretended that she didn't even hear him. Tony and Bruce paused in their little fight and glanced over. Tony frowned, "Wait, is your suit really just spandex?"

He huffed in annoyance, crossing his arms, "Yes! It helps me move better."

"And it rips in just a normal fight, apparently. Nat, did you use weapons?"

"No."

"Hmm," Tony was frowning but then he suddenly beamed in excitement, "Oh, I am definitely going to make you a new suit. It'll be the best suit there is. Hmm, I wonder what would be the best way to strengthen it."

Peter let out a groan, feeling a sudden urge to stomp his feet like a child, "Really, I like my suit. I don't need a new one."

"Yeah, until you get into a fight and then come out with it in ruins," Tony shot back.

He frowned, "I'll just make a new one again."

"Oh, no, no, no," Tony shook his head and put a hand on his shoulder, "Don't worry, Spiderboy. I will make the best spider suit known to man."

Natasha was smirking, as if she had had this plan all along. He started to glare at her but stopped. Glaring at Black Widow also sounded like suicide, and he did not want to die today.

He'd just became Iron Man's new project, apparently. Or, at least his suit was.

* * *

They had all gathered in the living room for what Steve called a "Team Bonding Exercise" a few days later. Peter had been skeptical of course but it turned out to just be playing Monopoly.

Because apparently board games helped them bond. Outwardly, Peter didn't question it… but he couldn't help but thinking that he'd only ever seen Monopoly ruin friendships.

Which seemed to be what was going on. Natasha was winning by a landslide, and Clint was pouting as he handed her the designated money after landing on one of her spots.

"Really, Steve," Sam spoke up with a small smirk as Steve bought a property, "You're almost out of money. Do you really think that you want to buy another one right now?"

Steve shrugged, "It gives me more of a chance to get more money if someone lands on it."

If someone had told Peter that he would be watching, and participating, in a game of Monopoly with the Avengers a month ago, he would have laughed in their face. Yet, here we was. It felt oddly normal, though. He wondered if Steve had done this on purpose to help him settle in. It was the only explanation that he could come up with. After all, The Avengers were a team of superheroes. Board Games couldn't be a normal thing in their lives, could it? Weren't they too busy fighting aliens?

Apparently not, though, as they all seemed rather familiar with the whole game.

The game lasted for hours. Eventually, Natasha hit a bad streak and started losing. The game never actually finished, but when it hit six o'clock and Clint pointed out that Sam needed to start cooking (though, he refused again, and Steve decided to order Thai food), they decided to stop the game and count out who had the most money and the most properties.

Just like in real life, it turned out to be Tony, who didn't hesitate to start bragging about it.

That was when Bucky seemed to snap. He stood up stiffly and walked to the elevator, grabbing his coat.

"Where are you going?" Steve asked concerned.

"Out," Bucky replied simply.

He got into the elevator, and then he was gone.

The group sat in silence for a long time, staring at the elevator in surprise. Bruce spoke up after a moment, "Uh, should we go after him?"

Steve shook his head, "No, give him some space. He'll be okay."

And with those words, the group separated. Steve went off to order dinner. Tony and Bruce disappeared down to Tony's lab. Natasha and Clint headed off to the training room for more practice, leaving Peter with Sam.

"So, Sam spoke up as they were left alone, "You know, I don't know much about you. What do you like to do?"

Peter was surprised by the question. He really hadn't even thought that they would care about his hobbies. They were just a team, after all.

"Oh, well, I like science," he explained awkwardly, fidgeting on the couch and playing with his sleeves, "I also like photography. I work for the Daily Bugle, actually."

Sam raised his eyebrows, "Oh? Don't they post about Spiderman a lot? They aren't really good things about you either…"

"Yeah, I know. I'm the one who takes the pictures of Spiderman," he smirked lightly at that and shrugged, "Jameson hates Spiderman but it pays well, so I take pictures of myself during patrols."

The man grinned, and then started laughing, "So he pays you to take selfies?"

"Pretty much."

* * *

It was about an hour later when Bucky got back. They were at the table, eating the Thai food that Steve had ordered. Peter had managed to strike up a conversation with Bruce. It had started up awkwardly, as he still hadn't really gotten used to the team, but it gradually got more relaxed. Clint had loudly been questioning whether it would be okay for Lucky to eat the Thai food for nearly ten minutes before Natasha had given up on arguing with him and simply googled it.

However, when Bucky walked up, the attention was no longer on Lucky, but on the other dog that followed the man in.

"Uh," Tony stood up, staring at the creature as if it was a bear, "What is that?"

The dog was definitely a mixed breed. It seemed to have some chocolate lab in it, but that was all that he could really tell. Peter had never been a big dog fan, as he'd been allergic to them before he got bit by the spider.

"It's a dog," Bucky said simply, crossing his arms. He glared at Tony, as if daring him to say something else, "her name is Lucy."

"Lucy?" Tony asked, throwing his hands up, "Oh, it's a stray, isn't it. Please tell me you did not bring home a stray."

Bucky frowned, glancing back at the dog, "She followed me."

"It probably has fleas!" Tony shrieked, "Steve! Tell him he can't keep the dog! Make him get rid of it!"

Peter held back a chuckle at the event. The dog (Lucy, according to Bucky) had wandered over to Lucky and was sniffing him experimentally. Lucky seemed equally as interested in her.

"Wow, Bucky, you stole my name," Clint said, "All he did was remove one letter. Creative."

Bucky gave a huff, "I like Lucy."

Something in Bucky's face told Peter that if they got rid of Lucy, he would not be happy. From what Peter had observed, Steve would do anything to keep Bucky happy.

"Come on, Tony," Steve argued, "Clint has Lucky and you don't say anything about that."

"Lucky doesn't have fleas," Tony responded, arms crossed, "She's probably already infected the entire tower!"

Steve sighed, "We can give her some flea shampoo or something, and we can take her to the vet and make sure she doesn't have any kind of diseases," he said and then moved closer to Tony, "Come on, I think she'll be good for Bucky."

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at that but didn't respond, instead staring almost hopefully at the two men.

There was a long, tense silence before Tony finally spoke in a loud, resigned voice, "Alright, but I want that thing taken to the vet yesterday."

Clint cheered and patted Lucky on his head, "Look, you get a new friend."

Peter gave a small laugh, shaking his head. Board games and dogs were not what he signed up for, but he gladly took it. They weren't bad considering what he had signed up for. He just hoped that it stayed like this.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Chapter 3 is up! Thanks for all of the reviews, guys! I can't begin to explain how much they mean to me. I have this story outlined out but if you want to suggest something happening, I might put it in (if it works with the plot). There will be 10 chapters, but this is just the first story. It will be part of a series, just so you guys know. In the next chapter, we will delve into Clint's affinity for pranks so be on the lookout!**

 **I'm going to try and update often. I'm on summer break with nothing to do, so it should work out and I have a plan for each chapter so I shouldn't catch writer's block.**

 **If you have any questions about something, don't be scared to ask!**


	4. A Day Full of Pranks

Peter was pulled out of his dream but the incessant beeping of his alarm. I let out a small groan, putting an arm over his face. It was way too early. He felt as if he'd only slept a few hours.

He had been at the Avengers Tower for almost one week, now. So far, everything seemed to be going well, but Bruce had been dropping hints that he was going to need to be careful around Clint. Peter wasn't sure what he was talking about.

Except, as he opened his eyes, he understood completely.

There was dozens of dead flies scattered all over his bed.

He let out a high-pitched screech that he would definitely deny ever doing and leaped off the bed, sticking to the ceiling. He stared down at his bed in horror and started wiping at his skin as if there was some clinging to him.

Once he was sure that he was fine and didn't have any flies on him, he dropped down the floor.

He didn't know why or how the flies were there at first. It wasn't until he spotted a piece of paper on the floor next to his bed that it clicked in his mind.

The paper read, "Hope you have a nice, early breakfast."

Gross.

He shuddered lightly. He may be part spider, but he wasn't about to eat flies. That was just disgusting.

He crumpled the paper in his hand, growling lightly and cursing the Archer under his breath. This had to be what Bruce had been warning him about. Clint seemed to have an affinity for pranks. Sam, after all, was still refusing to cook for everyone until Clint apologized (and he seemed to be in no way about to do that).

For a moment, he simply stood there and thought, briefly wondering how he could get revenge on him. Sam seemed to have his own way of revenge, but Peter honestly couldn't think of anything that he could do. He didn't know Clint enough.

Besides, he'd never been good with revenge. He'd never been good with fighting back, even with his powers. At school, he still let bullies push him around. After all, if he used his powers, he could seriously hurt them and he would expose his identity. Neither of which was something he wanted to do.

It was just flies. He could deal with flies. He didn't have to make it into anything big. Maybe if he acted like it didn't bother him, Clint wouldn't do it again? That had always been what his Aunt May would tell him about bullies when he was younger. They're looking for a reaction, so don't give them one. Maybe it was the same with Clint.

With that in mind, he turned from the bed and headed to take a shower.

* * *

It wasn't until Peter got out of the shower did he realize the reason why he was so exhausted. It was only two in the morning. Someone had changed the time on his phone, and he knew who.

Okay, he could handle dead bugs in his bed. He could handle being a little tired. It was already three, and after the whole fiasco that morning, he knew that there was no way he was going back to sleep. He needed a way to entertain himself quietly until the rest of the Avengers woke up.

After disposing of the dead flies, putting his sheets in the laundry basket, and remaking his bed with some sheets he found in his closet, Peter headed down to the kitchen. He was getting a bit hungry and figured that a snack couldn't hurt. They had told him that he was free to raid the kitchen, after all.

As it turned out, he wasn't the only one who had the idea to get a snack. Tony was already in the kitchen, sitting at the table with a tablet in front of him and sipping at a cup of coffee. Peter had only been at the tower for a week, but even he could tell that the genius was addicted to the caffeinated drink. He knew that the man went to bed much later than everyone else and he was up at the crack of dawn. It was obvious to Peter that he was definitely sleep-deprived.

"You're still up?" Tony asked in slight surprise as Peter walked in and headed towards the pantry.

"Uh, not really," Peter responded, "Someone changed the time on my phone and put dead flies in my bed."

Tony smirked at that, shaking his head, "Clint's hit you. That means you're officially an Avenger."

Peter would never admit that those words almost made up for the entire morning. Of course, he technically was an Avenger. He'd signed all of those contracts that Coulson had given him. Still, after only a week, he still kind of felt a bit like an outside looking in. He could see the goofy mess that was the team, but he wasn't yet an actual part of it.

Maybe it was a good thing that Clint had decided to prank him?

Instead of voicing his thoughts, Peter simply shrugged and sat down beside Tony with some chips, "You do know that it's three in the morning, don't you?"

Tony glanced up at him, then back at the tablet, and raised his eyebrows, "Well, I do now. If I go to sleep now, I'll have four hours to sleep… I can stay up another hour and be fine."

Peter rolled his eyes, "I'm pretty sure you should be sleeping at least four more hours than that to be healthy."

The man simply waved him off. His eyes were glued to the screen as he tapped it several times, "I'll be fine. I've lived on three hours of sleep a night for the past few years."

Yep, Tony Stark, genius playboy philanthropist, was definitely sleep-deprived. Maybe he could work with Bruce to try and drug his coffee soon and make him sleep? After all, a sleep-deprived hero could not make the best choices.

* * *

Peter ended up watching television in his room for the next three hours. He flipped through the channels, never really finding something to actually focus on, until seven o'clock hit.

He ended up being the second one in the kitchen. The first was Steve, as he was a morning person.

"Good morning," he greeted politely as he took a seat at the table.

Steve glanced up at him. He was reading a book and Peter caught the title "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix".

"Morning, Peter. Sleep well?"

Peter gave a small huff and shook his head, "My alarm went off at two in the morning and there was a bunch of dead flies in my bed."

It was at that moment that Clint made his appearance, "Did you have a good breakfast, Petey?"

"Clint…" Steve said in a voice that clearly said that he was disappointed in him.

Clint sat down with his hands up in surrender, "Hey, he's a spider, isn't he?"

"I have some spider DNA," Peter corrected, "I'm mostly human… and I definitely do not like to eat flies."

The Archer simply rolled his eyes, as if that was a preposterous thing to claim, and changed the subject, "Is Sam cooking?"

"Have you apologized?"

Wow, The Avengers really had a way of walking in at the perfect opportunities.

"Come on, Sam. It was a week ago," Clint whined as he looked at him, "Can't you just give up? I know you miss cooking."

"I miss not being scared that I'll be attacked by a bird in my own room," Sam countered.

Clint huffed, but he didn't respond. Instead, he picked up the newspaper and glanced at the front page, "Ooh, Petey, you got an article."

"Really?" Steve asked, leaning over to try and read it.

Clint nodded, looking all too happy to read it out loud, "Spiderman: Friend or Foe? Spiderman has been seen swinging up over the sky and stopping crime. However, many people are starting to wonder whether or not he is just doing more harm than good? Why can't he let the police do the job? Is he going to turn on us soon and start to kill ordinary citizens?"

Peter peaked over at the paper in Clint's hands. Wow, Jameson was definitely grasping at straws here.

"Wow, they picked that photo?" Peter wondered out loud as he glanced at the one that was chosen. The other night, he'd sat the camera on a ledge, put a timer on it, and taken several photos of himself swinging down the street. There had been one rather good one that showed him in a free fall that he'd been sure that Jameson would choose, but it looked like a simple average one of him sitting on a ledge had been chosen.

Clint sent him an odd look, then paused and said, "Wait? This says 'Photo taken by Peter Parker'."

"Yeah," Peter shrugged lightly, "It pays well. I just take a few pictures while I'm out patrolling, send them in, and I have money to repair my suit or replace my webs."

Sam was smirking, having already known it, but Clint and Steve were staring at him in bafflement. A few minutes later, Bruce walked in and paused, "What happened?"

* * *

There was glitter covering his room.

That was the only thought that could flood through Peter's mind when he opened the door after training had finished. He stared at the room in surprise, unable to even move.

How had Clint found the time to even do this?

He huffed, glancing around the room in annoyance. There was glitter on his bed, glitter on his desk, glitter in the carpet, and glitter covering the walls. It was as if someone had thrown glitter onto the ceiling fan… which was probably exactly what happened.

Deciding that he was so not cleaning it up, he turned on his feet and headed back to the living room. Clint was already there, sprawled out on the couch and smirking at Peter as he entered.

"I'm not cleaning it up," Peter said, narrowing his eyes at the man.

Clint grinned, "Clean what up?"

"The glitter!"

"Oh, that," He responded, smirking widely, "Thought you might want to decorate your room a bit. You're welcome."

Peter threw his hands up into the air in frustration, "Do you know how hard it is to get glitter out of things?"

"Yeah, that's why I chose it," Clint said cheerfully as he hopped to his feet. He looked rather proud of himself.

Bruce walked in and, upon hearing that, sighed, "Clint, did you prank Peter _again_?"

"Of course. It's National Prank Peter day. Didn't you hear? I marked it on your calendar."

Bruce shook his head, sat in a chair, and started reading a book. Peter turned to Clint, exasperated, "Really? Couldn't you have at least told me that you were going to cover my room in glitter so I wouldn't have just changed my sheets after the fly incident?"

"How would that be fun?" Clint asked with a smirk. He walked around to Peter and put a hand over his shoulders, "Come on. I've pranked everyone on this team but you. It was your turn."

Something was suddenly crawling on his neck. Peter froze, shivering at the feeling.

"Did you just put a spider on his neck?" Bruce asked in disbelief.

Nope. Nope. Nope. Peter had enough of spiders crawling on his neck to last a lifetime. His mind didn't even process the thought that this probably wasn't a radioactive spider before he shot up to the ceiling, batting at the spider until it fell to the ground and crawled under the couch.

"Clint!" Bruce groaned.

Peter stayed glued to the ceiling, watching them while he was upside down. He glared at the Archer, "Not cool, man."

"Come on, I thought you wanted a friend."

"Maybe a human friend. Not a spider friend. I don't speak spider," Peter huffed, crossing his arms.

Clint just shook his head, laughing to himself, "Whatever. Just come down."

"No," Peter said stubbornly. He was not coming down, at least when Clint was in the room. He was not about to pranked yet again. He was tired of it.

The Archer started to look a bit nervous, "Come on, Peter. Steve will kill me if he finds out that I pranked you again… and let a spider loose in the tower. Just come on down and pretend it never happened."

Peter shook his head, arms crossed in defiance.

"Come on, Peter. I promise I won't do anything else," Clint begged, and Peter had to admit that seeing one of the most dangerous people alive beg was hilarious.

There was a pause as the door opened. Tony walked in, caught sight of the scene, smirked, and turned around, "Capsicle! I want to show you something!"

Moments later, Steve walked in. Clint was glaring at Tony, who looked smug.

"What is it? Why… Why is Peter on the ceiling?" Steve asked, looking confused.

Peter pointed at Clint, "He put a spider on my neck."

"Tattle tale."

Steve sighed, arms crossed and giving Clint his "Captain America is disappointed in you" face. It only took a few minutes for Clint to groan and turn to Peter, "I'm sorry."

"Now, was that so hard?" Steve smiled triumphantly and Peter grinned as he hopped back down to the floor.

"Apology accepted," Peter said happily, because he now knew how to get back at Clint. Sam might be able to get back at him by refusing to cook, but Peter had found a much more effective way. Steve.

And it probably had to do with the fact that he was the youngest and Steve had taken up an odd, protective manner with him.

As the group settled back down, Peter smiled to himself. He had to admit that it was nice to have people who seemed to care about him. He was starting to think that the only person he had in his life like that was his Aunt May. He was really starting to feel like he belonged, and that he really wasn't just an outsider looking in. Maybe-

His thoughts were cut off by a shriek from Tony as the spider crawled out from under the couch.

Maybe he had a family here?

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hope you guys like chapter four! I really wanted to dedicate a chapter to Clint and his pranks. In the next chapter, we're going to start to get more actual drama. The whole chapter will be centered around Peter and Bucky after the Avengers are called off on a mission, so keep an eye out for it!**

 **I am going to say that this story is really setting up for the actual plot. The last chapter will involve a huge shift in the tone for the rest of the series, but I needed to establish the setting and the character relationships and things. The next story, which will be called A Different Kind of Rescue, will involve much more action and drama.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	5. A Day With Bucky

**Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel.**

* * *

Peter got the text halfway into sixth period.

It was from Steve, a short message that simply stated, "Avengers have a mission. Bucky's at the tower."

He frowned at it for a long moment. Peter had been living with the Avengers for three weeks now and while there had been a few small instances that had resulted in one or two of the Avengers having to go on a mission (Usually it was Clint or Natasha), there hadn't yet been one that needed all of them.

So, upon the ringing of the bell, Peter practically bolted out of the school. He passed the influx of students who chatted amiably among themselves and managed to avoid Flash and his gang. He reached the car in record time.

Peter had managed to convince Tony and Happy to pick him up in a normal car, instead of the limo that Happy had originally picked him up in. The attention that that brought was way too dangerous. After all, everyone at school assumed that Peter still lived with his aunt. They didn't know that he was Spiderman or that he was living at Avengers Tower and he planned to keep it that way.

When he walked into the door of the tower, he was immediately greeted by the dogs. Lucky bounded over towards him, tail wagging cheerfully. Lucy followed a bit slower behind him.

Lucy looked like an entirely new dog since they got her. She'd been given all of her shots, a proper hair-cut, and had gained a good amount of weight so that she didn't look all skin and bones like she had when she'd arrived. It didn't take a genius to tell that Bucky loved her. In fact, Peter knew that if Lucy was here, then Bucky must be-

"How was school?"

"Good," Peter responded as he turned to the older man. Out of everyone, it had taken Bucky the longest to open up to Peter, but he eventually did, "How's the team?"

Bucky shrugged, "Last I heard, they were fine. They're in India, fighting some robots that some jerk released on the public."

Peter had a feeling that Bucky was understating it, but he didn't say anything about it. Bucky had a tendency to pretend that things weren't as bad as usual in order to stay calm and, from what Peter had been told, they were trying to keep Bucky as calm as possible. They were still working on fixing his Hydra conditioning and they didn't want the man to snap one day and go all Winter Soldier on them.

"Steve wants me to train with you," Bucky spoke up after a moment, sounding just a bit nervous.

He glanced up, a bit surprised, though he figured he really shouldn't be. Steve had a rather strict code on training, and he absolutely hated it when someone skipped. Peter, especially, needed all the training he could get if he wanted to actually get into the fights.

It was just that he'd always trained with Natasha, and never with Bucky.

He nodded, though, "Alright. We can do that. Natasha's shown me a lot of moves lately and I've been wanting to try them out."

And that was how the two of them found themselves in the gym. They had pulled out the robots that Tony had made specifically for training. They started with two of them, one for each.

The robots weren't perfect and were something that Tony worked on all through the night rather often. They were meant to fight them and allow them to spar without needing someone else in the room. They were good and Peter had certainly been impressed when he first saw them, but their moves were a bit jerky and it just wasn't like fighting a human.

Peter had yet to use one but they were what Bucky always used during training, as he had a fear of harming one of them. The Winter Soldier had really messed him up.

While he wished that he had Natasha to train with, he did find that he rather enjoyed fighting with the robot. He could use his full strength on it, after all, and didn't have to worry about breaking one of Natasha's bones. Also, he knew that he could beat it.

Peter was currently sparring with the robot, punching it and hopping gracefully out of the way when it came after him. His spider sense was super helpful in helping him dodge things and Natasha often mentioned that it would be useful in actual fights. That was possibly the only praise that he got from her.

Growing bored with the normal sparring, he decided that he should take his earlier words to heart and practice some of those moves that Natasha had taught him. Maybe he could impress her at practice tomorrow?

Of course, it was just his luck that the robot would swing his arm out just as Peter tried to flip him, causing Peter to crash hard on the floor… and on his arm.

There was a sickening crack and he groaned as pain shot up his arm.

The robot, having been programed by Tony for situations like this, immediately shut down once Peter did not get off the floor in ten seconds. He rolled to a sitting position, clutching his arm to his chest and breathing heavily.

"Stevie?"

Peter's head shot up. Bucky was walking to him shakily, eyes glazed over and looking as if he was staring through him.

"Stevie, are you okay?" Bucky fell to his knees in front of Peter, but Peter could tell that he wasn't even looking at him. No, he was looking at something else, someone else, who wasn't actually there.

He'd been warned about this. When they had found Bucky, he had had practically no memory. Slowly, the memories came back. Sometimes they were normal, calm occasions where he'd remember someone from his past, or a preference that he had used to have. Sometimes, they came back in dreams or nightmares. Sometimes, they came back like this.

Flashbacks. Bucky would sometimes have flashbacks where the entire world faded away and he was stuck in the memory. Peter hadn't seen it happen, but he had heard about it.

Well, he was seeing it now.

"Stevie, we can't afford hospital bills, you little punk. You've got to stop getting into these fights."

Peter wondered what he should do. Should he try and snap him out of it? Should he let the memory run its course? Was that even a thing?

His arm really hurt, though, and he knew that he needed to get some ice on it or something. He'd broken bones before on duty as Spiderman and they had always healed by the next day, but he was probably going to have to skip his patrol. Dang it.

Bucky was still babbling, and Peter had never heard the guy talk so much since he got here.

He was also pretty sure that the guy was starting to panic and all of the sudden he was remembering their fears that Bucky might revert back to the Winter Soldier if under too much stress. That had been proposed by Bruce, who was probably drawing a bit from his own experience.

So, Peter knew that he needed to calm the guy down.

"Hey, hey, hey," he whispered calmly, arm still tucked to his chest, "Bucky, calm down. It's okay. It's me, Peter. Alright? You're in the tower, remember?"

There was a pause and Bucky was shaking his head, "Stevie, you broke your arm."

"I'm Peter. Steve's on a mission. It's 2016," Peter spoke slowly, reaching out with his uninjured arm to rest his hand on the man's shoulder, "Come on, just calm down. You're in the gym, remember?"

Bucky stilled, blinking slowly. His breathing slowly evened out as he was brought back to the present. There was a long silence before the man spoke, voice much clearer than it had been before, "Peter?"

"Yeah, it's me," he nodded, "Are you okay?"

He nodded with a sigh, "Yeah, I'm fine. I just-" he paused, narrowing his eyes at Peter's arm that was still clutched protectively to his chest, "You hurt your arm."

"Well, yeah," Peter responded with a small nod. He breathed deeply through his nose. For a moment, he'd completely forgotten about his broken arm, "It's just broken. It'll heal by tomorrow. It's fine."

Bucky didn't look convinced and stood up quickly, "Do we need to call the team? I'm sure they'd come back-"

"Bucky. It's fine. Look, I'll just get some ice to put on it and make a quick sling out of a shirt or something. I've done this before."

"Well," Bucky looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn't, "Alright, I can make a sling. I used to do it for Steve."

Peter tried to argue, tried to tell him that it was fine and he could do it himself, but one glare from Bucky told him that that was not going to happen.

* * *

A half hour later found Peter sitting on the couch in the living room, a makeshift sling supporting his arm and an icepack held gently onto it. Bucky had insisted on cooking rather than the two of them ordering dinner (he was getting rather tired of ordering out, and Peter agreed). So, they had flipped on the news which was discussing the Avengers latest movements and Peter had settled down on the couch.

"The fight seems to be winding down," a reporter spoke as footage played of the Avengers fighting the hundreds and hundreds of robots, "So far, it is impossible to tell how many are dead or injured."

Peter watched it carefully, brown eyes scanning the scene that it showed. The robots were definitely powerful and dangerous. He'd seen one or two get back up after being slammed into the ground by the Hulk. They were strong and had literally ripped civilians apart.

Bucky walked into the living room with two plates of lasagna. He handed one to Peter and sat down on a nearby chair, watching the news with intensity.

It was a long moment before Peter spoke, unable to hold back, "Do you ever worry about them when they're out there?"

The man glanced back at him, looking surprised, and Peter suddenly blushed furiously. That was such a stupid question. Why had he asked that?

He was surprised, however, when Bucky responded, "Yeah, all the time, kid."

"Oh."

He hadn't expected that. Or, maybe he had?

And so, the two fell into a comfortable silence. Peter had to admit that he rather enjoyed Bucky's company. He was quieter than the rest and didn't crack jokes like Clint or burst into coffee-fueled ramblings about science like Tony. The man much preferred to simply sit on the couch with Lucy sprawled on his lap. It was relaxing. Peter enjoyed that.

Besides, he knew that he needed rest. His healing factor worked best when he was resting rather than moving around or slinging around New York. Bucky was probably the best one for him to be left with that he could do that with. If it had been Clint… Peter probably wouldn't fully heal the break for a week.

Okay, that was being dramatic, but still.

It helped.

As the news announced that the fight was over, Peter found himself slowly slipping off into unconsciousness.

Ten minutes later, Bucky glanced over at Peter and saw him sprawled out on the couch. A touch of a smile came to his lips and he carefully walked over and took the plate out of the boy's hands and took them to the kitchen. He came back after a moment and grabbed a blanket out of the closet, gently draping it over his body.

He settled back in the chair, flipping through the channels.

When the Avengers arrived back the tower, they walked into both Peter and Bucky sleeping soundly in the living room. Tony tried to go in and wake them up but Steve dragged him away from the living room. Clint tried to take the opportunity to draw on their faces but, upon seeing the makeshift sling on Peter's arm, pulled the sharpie back and turned a concerned eye to Bruce.

The man, still exhausted from the day, took a quick look at his arm before whispering to Clint, "It's broken, but it seems to already be healing. He'll be okay."

Clint frowned, backing away and sending a glare at Bucky as if he dared allow harm to fall to Peter. Surprisingly, the glare seemed to wake Bucky up as he shot off the chair and stared at them for a long moment.

"What happened?" Clint demanded, arms crossed and eyes narrowed suspiciously. Natasha put a hand on his arm.

"He hurt himself training," Bucky replied simply and then walked over to Peter, gently picking him up in his arms and walking swiftly towards Peter's bedroom.

There was a long silence in the room. Steve had appeared at the doorway and had seen the odd behavior, but he was simply smirking, "Bucky practically kept me alive when we were younger," he responded, "He has a lot of dad tendencies."

And with that, the group shook their heads and headed back to their own rooms to get their own rest.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hope you guys enjoyed that! This one was a bit different than the other chapters that I've written so far. The tone of the story is slowly changing. It's all leading up to chapter 10. I need to establish everyone's relationship and stuff before everything gets flipped upside down for Peter.**

 **Next chapter will focus on the little bully issue that Peter's facing at school and how the Avengers react to that.**  
 **Oh! Someone asked about Thor so I thought that I should let you know that I have his first appearance planned for Chapter 8 so don't worry, I haven't forgotten about him.**  
 **Thanks for reading, everyone!**


	6. Suits and Bullies

Where was his textbook? He knew that he left it somewhere around here… he had been studying before going on patrol the night before and when he had returned back to the tower, exhausted and aching after having been hit by a car trying to stop a drug deal, he'd collapsed in bed and completely forgot to put the book up.

He could not, for the life of him, remember where he had sat it.

Groaning, he moved stacks of paper off his desk, searching for the large Biology textbook. Nope. He scanned the floors. Nothing. This was frustrating. He didn't have time for this.

He got onto his knees and checked under his bed, a relieved smile gracing his lips as he spotted the book laying under the bed. Quickly, he grabbed the book and pulled it out, hopping gracefully to his feet.

"JARVIS," he called, curious. He had already been planning on asking the AI what had happened to the book if he hadn't found it. A certain archer had come to his mind, "How did my textbook get under my bed?"

The British voice spoke, "When you arrived home last night, you knocked it off the bed."

Ah, that made sense. He hadn't even taken the time to change out of his suit the night before. Currently, the suit lay on the floor of the room, ripped and dirty. When he'd awoken from his slumber twenty minutes after his alarm had gone off and remembered that it was a school day, he knew that he needed to hurry. He'd grabbed some clothes, hopped into the shower, and been out in record time before going on a search for his school supplies.

He didn't have time to wash and repair the suit. He would do that when he got home from school. For now, he needed to-

"Peter! Just the Spider I was looking for."

He withheld a groan of annoyance as he turned to where Tony was standing at the door, a wide grin on his face. He raised his eyebrows at the man, "Yeah. I'm in my room. What a surprise."

"Well, you weren't at breakfast," Tony says with a shrug. He glanced around the room, eyes narrowing at the sight of his suit, "What happened?"

No. He really didn't feel like having Tony lecturing him. He gave a quick, "Nothing."

Luckily, Tony didn't seem to be in the mood for arguing with Peter. He simply looked Peter over real quick, probably making sure that he wasn't about to collapse, and motioned for Peter to follow him, "I've got something for you to see before you go to school."

Peter gave a slight sigh of relief as Tony didn't push it anymore. While none of his injuries were life-threatening and, therefore, he did not feel should worry anyone, his torso was a mixture of already fading bruises that looked much worse than they already were. Had he been able to get enough sleep the night before, they would have already been completely gone, but he hadn't gotten back from his patrol until three in the morning.

He followed behind the genius, school bag slung over his shoulder. His curiosity over whatever Tony wanted to show him made him temporarily forget that he needed to get to school.

Tony walked with purpose towards his lab, and Peter followed quickly behind. A quick elevator ride and the two were walking into the lab.

"This," Tony said dramatically, "Is your new suit."

Peter stared in front of him. The suit that Tony had made was definitely impressive. He walked towards it, letting his eyes rake over the suit's metal armor. It actually looked a lot like Tony's own suit. It would definitely protect him but…

"What's wrong with it?" Tony asked, noting the expression on Peter's face.

"It's great, really," Peter said quickly, "It's just that… uh… I chose spandex because it helps me with my agility and metal…"

Tony frowned at that, eyeing the suit, "You can still be pretty flexible."

"But can I do all the flips and stuff?" Peter asked, "The metal is heavier than spandex and it would restrict me on-"

A sigh. Peter felt a bit guilty, as he could tell that Tony had spent a lot of work on it, probably sleepless nights that were really damaging to the man's health, "Alright. I need material that's thin and light like spandex but also protects you. I can do that."

Peter chewed on his lip, "My suit it fine, Ton-"

"What I saw when I went to get you was not fine," Tony cut him off, eyebrows raised.

He blushed, realizing that he really didn't have a way to convince Tony not to work on it. He really didn't want him to. After all, he was really attached to it.

There was a pause and then Peter glanced down at his watch, noted the time, and cursed under his breath before taking off at a run towards the elevator.

"Don't let Cap hear you talk like that," Tony called after him. He didn't bother to respond.

* * *

Luckily, Peter managed to run into class just as the bell ring. The teacher raised an eyebrow at his close arrival, but said nothing as he slid into the seat beside Gwen. She gave him a small frown.

"I thought I was going to have to cover for you again," she hissed at him under her breath.

Peter hadn't talked to Gwen much. After joining the Avengers, he had barely any free time. He felt bad about that. After all, Gwen had been the only person that had known he was Spider-Man before Coulson had decided to spill the news to his Aunt May.

"Sorry," he whispered back, careful not to catch the teacher's attention, "Running late."

She sent him a look that screamed that she wanted an explanation. He simply gestured to the teacher, getting it across to her that now was not a good time. Getting into a conversation about the Avengers while in class would not bode well for his secret identity.

Of course, the moment the bell rang, Gwen pulled him out towards her locker.

"It wasn't anything bad," he assured her, quickly and quietly, "Look, I just had a bad night last night and I overslept, and then-"

She cut him off, and really, he was starting to get annoyed with how people seemed to think that he wasn't allowed to finish his sentences. First Tony, and now Gwen, "What happened last night?"

"Uh," he looked sheepish, knowing that she wouldn't be happy, "I might have gotten hit by a car."

"Peter!" she exclaimed, but her voice was soft. She understood that no one else could know about it, "Are you okay?"

He nodded quickly, "'Course, Gwen. Already healed."

Of course, that was a lie. He hadn't completely healed. His ribs were still sore and his legs ached whenever he took a step. Still, he had healed over the night. He was almost certain that he had cracked a few ribs and sprained his wrist, at the least. Those had definitely healed overnight. He could deal with being a bit sore.

She narrowed her eyes, as if she could see right through him, which she probably could. She was, after all, his best friend.

"Look," he told her quickly, "I got to get to Biology. We can talk at Lunch and I'll explain what happened. It honestly wasn't that bad."

"Peter, you could be stabbed fifteen times and try to tell me that it wasn't that bad," Gwen argued.

Peter winced at that, "That's not…" he hesitated, because honestly, it probably was.

She simply nodded, "Exactly. You and I will be talking at lunch. Extensively."

* * *

Luckily, school passed by without much incident. He was sure that he passed his Biology test with flying colors and he was the first one to turn in his history pop quiz and even Gwen's lecture at lunch went by fairly smoothly.

However, Peter always had horrible luck. As he was heading out of the school to hop in the car with Happy, he was cornered by Flash and his gang of friends.

"Hey, Puny Parker," Flash taunted, a smirk on his face, "We haven't talked in a while."

Peter groaned, his bag slung over his shoulder, and glanced back at the jock, "No, we haven't. Can't say I've missed it."

Like every time the two met, Peter found himself pushed up against the locker. Like every time the two met, he did nothing to stop it.

* * *

"Peter!" Happy stared at him as he climbed in the passenger seat, huffing to himself, "What happened?"

He sat his bag on the floor and crossed his arms over his chest, "Nothing," he assured the man, "I'm fine."

He got a glimpse of his face in the mirror and winced. His lip was split and his eye was already turning black. Great. How was he going to hide this? He could hide the bruises from the patrol under his clothes, but this wouldn't be hidden so easily.

They drove in silence towards Avengers tower. Peter fiddled with his sleeves, mentally groaning. He was going to have to train. Maybe he could get inside and take a quick nap first. That would give his healing factor a boost.

So, that's exactly what he did. As he got into the elevator to head up towards his living room, he put his hood up on his jacket, shielding his face.

As the elevator opened up, he attempted to quickly make his way towards his room before being bombarded by his team members. Tony was almost always in the lab, so he knew that he didn't need to worry about him, and Bucky was usually always cooped up in his room with Lucy. He knew that Clint and Natasha were on a mission and they weren't scheduled to be back for a few days, so that took care of them. Steve was probably at the gym.

So, as he glanced into the living room, he found that it was only Sam and Bruce. Bruce was reading a book, while Sam was watching television. It was turned up pretty loud, and neither of the two had any kind of enhanced senses. Perfect.

Quickly, but quietly, he started walking towards his room. Neither Sam nor Bruce had looked up. Good, good, he was almost there.

"Peter!"

He yelped and launched himself into the air, sticking to the ceiling. He turned his head towards the source, surprised to see Clint staring up at him, arms crossed and frowning.

"When did you get back?" he asked as he hopped back down to the ground, "I thought you had a mission."

"I thought you had school," Clint countered. Peter glanced by him into the kitchen and saw that Natasha was also there, sharpening a knife.

He looked back at the archer, eyebrows raised, "I did."

Clint's eyes narrowed and he pointed at him, "Then why do you look like you just got back from a nasty patrol."

Unconsciously, his hands went to his face. Oh. His hood had fallen down during the jump back to the floor and he hadn't realized it. Of course. Just his luck.

"Uh," he really had no response. Natasha had stood up from the bench and was making her way towards them. Sam and Bruce, also, had suddenly appeared.

"Did you skip school?" Bruce asked, sounding concerned.

"No! Of course not," Peter responded quickly, shaking his head, "Look, I went to school. I promise."

"Did someone attack the school? I didn't see anything on the news?" Clint asked.

Peter groaned, putting his head in his hands, "Guys, nothing happened. There was just some guys at school who don't really like me."

And wow, that was embarrassing.

A dark look passed over Clint's face, "What?"

"JARVIS," Natasha spoke up, sounding deadly calm, "Please tell Bucky, Tony, and Steve to get in here."

Peter's head snapped towards her so fast that he was sure that he just got whiplash, "What? No, seriously guys, I told you, I didn't skip school. No one attacked the school."

"We believe you," Sam responded.

Bruce had suddenly appeared next to Peter, holding out an ice pack, "Put this against your face."

Peter huffed, "Honestly, can I just go to my room. You know, I heal much faster when I'm asleep."

"Take it," Bruce simply repeated, and Peter gave in. Deciding that if he wasn't going to be able to go to his room, he was at least toing to take some weight off of his legs and hopped up onto the table, pressing the icepack up against his face. He had to admit, it felt good.

It only took a minute for Bucky to walk into the room, Lucy trotting along behind him. Steve appeared next, still dressed in his sweaty gym clothes and looking concerned.

"What's going on?" he asked, though his eyes were immediately glued to Peter's face.

"We wait for Tony," Clint said simply. The normal childish prankster that Peter had grown accustomed to was gone, leaving a stone-cold archer in his place. It was unnerving.

It took five minutes for the man to finally appear, grumbling under his breath. He spotted them in the kitchen, opened his mouth to rant, spotter Peter, and stopped, "That wasn't there this morning."

"No, it wasn't," Clint said, arms crossed as he stared at Peter for a long moment before swiveling on his heels to face the three new arrivals, "Peter got beat up at school."

" _Clint_ ," Peter whined, "I'm fine."

Steve definitely did not look happy. He walked over to Peter, cocked his head slightly, and asked, "Where else are you hurt?"

"Nowhere," Peter answered, too quickly.

Bucky was by Steve's side, "Jacket. Off. Now."

Peter gaped at the man and then jerked off the table as Natasha grabbed his jacket and pulled it off.

"Hey!"

Great. Now the bruises on his arms were now exposed to the group.

"Explain," Steve said.

Peter sighed, dropping his shoulder. This was so humiliating, "There's just some guys at school who like to pick on me. It's not like I can fight back without, you know, jeopardizing my identity. It's not a big deal."

Honestly, telling a group of superheroes that he was being bullied at school was not the way he wanted to spend his afternoon. They had so many other things to be worried about than his high school problems.

There was a long moment of silence and Peter wanted nothing more than to cease to exist. What kind of superhero got bullied?

Oh gosh, he was blushing. Could this get any worse?

Finally, Sam spoke, "What are we going to do, Steve?"

"Wait, what?" Peter demanded, "No. No, no, no, nothing needs to be done. Nothing's wrong."

"I don't like bullies," Steve spoke steadily, arms crossed. He seemed to be deep in thought.

"Guys!" Peter exclaimed. He pulled the ice pack away, only for Bruce to press it back against his face, "Guys, stop. Look, I'll be fine. I just need to sleep. I heal faster when I sleep."

"I can scare them," Natasha was saying, voice calm, "I'm sure I can find where they live."

"I'll help," Clint and Bucky responded at the same time.

Peter shook his head quickly, eyes wide, "Guys. Guys, stop," he shouted, "You are not going to do anything, alright? You can't terrorize kids."

"They hurt you," Bucky said, frowning deeply.

"I'm _fine_."

But of course, the team just continued talking around him, discussing plans for how to get back at the people who hurt him, and Peter hadn't even told them who it was. He put his head in his hands and groaned loudly.

The conversation went on for a full ten minutes. Natasha had moved towards the table, sharpening her knives. At Peter's sharp look, she simply said, "It's just to scare them, Peter."

"I don't want you scaring them."

"Tough."

Finally, Peter stood up and glared at each and every one of them. That quickly shut all of them up, as they had never really seen Peter angry before.

"Has any one of you stopped and thought about what might happen if you even get near any of them? I think you're forgetting that I have a secret identity. I'm pretty sure it will look rather suspicious if Black Widow or Hawkeye or Captain Freaking America harasses them because of what they did."

They were silent, obviously not having thought about that. None of them said anything.

"Now," Peter said, setting the ice pack on the table, "I am going to my room and I am going to go to bed. None of you will hurt or scare or even speak to them. Okay?"

Without even waiting for an answer (because honestly, he hadn't had a good day and he really didn't feel like adding overprotective superheroes into his life), he headed up towards his room, shut his door, stripped down to his boxers, and collapsed on his bed. He was asleep in less than a minute.

* * *

Peter was called into the Principal's Office the next day at school.

"Your Uncle James has informed me that you are being bullied, Mr. Parker."

"I-what?"

"I will need the names of those responsible in order to give out punishments."

"Again. What?"

Movement out the window caught Peter's eye. He spotted Bucky, sporting casual jeans and a t-shirt, walking from the school towards a car. Natasha sat in the driver's seat, with Clint in the back.

Oh, he was going to have some words with them when he got home.

Well, really, they _had_ done what he said. They had gone to the principal, which wasn't something he had forbidden them to do. As far as he knew, they didn't approach Flash or his friends. Peter, however, almost wished that he did as he turned back to the principal.

"Names, Peter. I need names," he sounded a bit nervous and glanced out the window at the car that carried Peter's teammates, "I have a no bullying policy in this school. There will be consequences for those involved."

How did he forget to tell them not to threaten the principal?

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! We've only got four more chapters to go! I'm really excited for you guys to read chapter ten... I'm also a bit terrified for you guys to read it. I will warn you guys real quick that there will be a character death. It's not Peter, though. There are still several stories following this one that need Peter as the main character.**

 **Yes, I added Gwen in there. I had a bunch of people asking about her. This story isn't going to be Gwen/Peter, though. I suck at writing romance, so there won't be any relationships in this story. Or, at least no major ones.**

 **Next chapter will be a mixture of things, including a revelation about Lucy, Avengers Movie Night, and Science Time with Tony and Bruce.**


	7. A Place In The Family

**Warning: There is child experimentation in this chapter. It is in the very last part of it so if you do not want to read it, skip that part.**

* * *

"I did _not_ sign up for puppies!"

Those were the words that jerked Peter from his slumber. There was several loud knocks, though they weren't on Peter's door. He rolled over in his bed, sleepy brown eyes finding his clock.

It was five in the morning.

Groaning, he pushed himself off his bed. The knocking had stopped, but now there was arguing down the hall. He stumbled towards his door, opened it, and stared at the scene in front of him.

Tony was standing in front of Bucky's door, arms crossed and talking a mile a minute. Bucky's door was opened and he stood there, mimicking Tony's stance, and staring. Peter had a feeling that he wasn't actually listening to what Tony was ranting about.

"What's going on?" Peter asked, because it was five in the morning and he was tired and Tony better have a good reason for waking him up.

Lucy bounded down the hallway, slipping past Tony and Bucky and into Bucky's room. Tony pointed at the dog in outrage, turning to Peter, "That dog is pregnant!"

Peter stared at him. Lucy was peeking out behind Bucky's legs, curious. Bucky just huffed, "I don't see how this is my fault."

"When you took her to the vet, I thought you got her fixed!" Tony exclaimed loudly.

"Fixed?" Bucky simply repeated.

A door opened down the hall, and Steve walked out wearing sweats and looking a bit annoyed, "What are you yelling about, Tony?"

"That dog is pregnant," Tony repeated, eyes wide as if hoping that someone would understand his anger, "I agreed to Lucky. I even agreed to Lucy. I did not agree to puppies."

Peter saw that Steve was fighting back a smile. Another door opened as Natasha came over, and repeated Steve's question, though in a slightly more annoyed manner. Tony just groaned.

"How do you even know?" Sam had appeared during Tony's explanation to Natasha.

"I noticed that the dog was a little bigger than normal," Tony's arms were crossed and he was pouting childishly, "I had JARVIS scan her and… she's pregnant. Two weeks pregnant! Steve, you said that you would take her to the vet!"

"I did!" Steve responded, "She got all her shots and flea medication and got groomed and everything."

Tony huffed, turning his glare to Steve, "So you just forgot to have her fixed?"

"Fixed?" Steve responded, looking confused.

The group fell silent for a long moment, everyone staring at each other. Finally, Peter decided to speak up, "Uh, when did having dogs fixed become… a thing?"

Tony glanced at Peter, "JARVIS?"

"A clinic in Los Angeles was the first low-cost spay/neuter clinic. It opened in 1969."

As JARVIS fell silent, Peter turned back to Tony, "I think they have an excuse of having grown up during the Great Depression."

Tony turned his glare onto Lucy, "You just couldn't have stayed away from Lucky, could you?" then, as if remembering something, stormed down the hall, "Clint doesn't have an excuse!"

"He turns his hearing aids off at night," Natasha called after him.

Tony turned, "Then wake him up!"

These were superheroes, weren't they? Peter was sure that he had signed up for a team of superheroes, not a team of immature adults.

With a sigh, he turned back into his room, shut the door, and climbed back in bed. He still had an hour to sleep. If only he could find a way to make the group of superheroes go to sleep…

* * *

Things weren't much calmer when Peter woke up the second time. Luckily, no one was outside of his door. He managed to get a shower and everything before heading down to the kitchen.

Clint and Sam were having what looked to be a staring contest. Tony was pouting on the couch, glaring at Lucy and Lucky who lay curled up next to each other. Steve was seated at the table counter, reading the newspaper. Natasha had her feet kicked up on the coffee table and was watching the news while Bruce sat nearby, reading a book. Bucky didn't seem to be up yet.

He walked over and sat next to Steve. He gestured over to Clint and Sam, "What's up with them?"

Steve didn't even look up from the paper, "Clint's trying to convince Sam to cook."

Peter had been with them for over a month now and had only heard about Sam's amazing cooking skills. The man was refusing to cook, still, and claimed that he wouldn't cook until Clint apologized.

"Again?" Peter asked, briefly catching the title of the newspaper. It was about the Avengers, again. Their last mission hadn't gone well and there had been a lot of property damage that people were trying to demand that they pay for.

Steve nodded, glancing over at Clint and Sam, "Again."

He sighed, stomach rumbling. He wondered if Bucky was going to cook or if someone was going to order breakfast. He hoped Bucky cooked. Honestly, he was getting so tired of take out.

"Come on, Sam. Just cook. One meal. Please," Clint suddenly spoke up.

"Not until I get an apology."

Clint groaned loudly. Peter watched, rolling his eyes. There was no way that Clint would apologize. He'd only been there for a month and he already knew that.

"Fine. Fine. I'm sorry."

Peter blinked. The room fell silent in shock.

Sam just smiled, "I forgive you."

And with that, it was as if a switch had been flipped. The tension between the two trickled away. Without another word, Sam stood up and made his way into the kitchen and started to pull out the ingredients for pancakes.

"Wait, are you serious?" Clint asked, looking like a happy puppy.

Sam just smirked. Tony hopped off the couch, bounding over with a grin, "You're cooking!"

"Yep. Man, I've missed this."

"Petey, you get to taste the best pancakes in the world," Tony said, in all seriousness. Peter raised his eyebrows, but smiled. If it was half as good as everyone said it was, it was going to be amazing.

* * *

Peter had to admit that Sam's pancakes were amazing. He was sure that he had never eaten something better than them in his life. Even Aunt May's pancakes weren't as good as his, and that was saying something.

Of course, he would never tell Aunt May that.

After breakfast, Steve informed them that Training would be at nine, which gave everyone a total of two hours to kill. Sam had declared that he was going to be doing lots and lots of baking to make up for his month absence from the kitchen. Steve announced that he was heading to the gym, and Natasha ended up following. Clint disappeared, something that Peter was suspicious about, and Tony was, Peter presumed, in his lab. Bucky, as always, went back to his bedroom with Lucy.

Peter decided to hang out with Bruce in the living room, until he remembered that he had History homework that needed to be completed. Groaning to himself, he hopped off the couch and made his way towards his room.

Only, there was already someone in there.

"What are you doing in my room?"

Tony glanced over at him, "Inspecting your clothes."

He was standing in front of Peter's closet, so he had guessed that much. There was only one question.

"Why?"

Tony didn't outright answer the question. Instead, he pulled out a simple t-shirt and asked, "What is this?"

Peter stared for a long moment, "Tony… aren't you a genius?"

The man huffed, "Where did you get this? Walmart?"

"Yes," Peter said slowly, and then felt the need to defend himself, "I like that shirt!"

Tony shook his head, looking scandalized, and put the shirt back, "No. No, no, no. You are going to go shopping with Pepper. Right now."

"Wait. What?" Peter shook his head, "I have homework… and training! Seriously, Tony, I'm fine."

Tony didn't seem to agree. He gave Peter a pointed look, "If Steve's the dad, then I'm the rich uncle, and I _am_ going to make sure that my nephew has the best clothes."

"…what?"

* * *

Clint had been shadowing Peter ever since learning of his troubles at school. Of course, Peter didn't _know_ that Clint had followed him to school every day, or even that Clint had followed him and Pepper to the store only hours before.

He was sure the younger boy would not be very happy if he knew that, which is why he was keeping it a secret.

And now, Clint found himself in the air vents, armed with quite a number of weapons, and watching the group that was standing around in the lab.

Okay, he was probably overreacting, but Peter had grown on him, and the lab was dangerous.

(Wow, Steve was rubbing off on him.)

If anyone asked, it was for research. Coulson had been talking about sending Peter into the next mission, and they needed to make sure that he was ready.

Of course, Steve had said several times that he didn't think Peter would be ready for the next three years. The kid was fifteen and fifteen-year-olds should not be in the field. Clint agreed. He also agreed that the kid would be furious if they told him that, and that it really wasn't fair to have him train for three entire years without being able to actually fight.

So they knew that Peter would be going into a fight soon. Clint had to be sure that he was ready. The kid had drastically improved in training and had almost pinned Natasha the other day (something that Steve had a hard time doing). His ability to heal meant that he was going to definitely be able to withstand more than most, but that didn't mean that Clint had to like it.

Their job was dangerous. Peter would be in danger. That was not something that he wanted to think about.

Peter was fifteen. He was a kid. Kids should not be purposefully putting themselves in danger.

He couldn't stop it, though. Peter wanted to fight, and he was good at it. Clint respected him for it. He just wanted to make sure he was ready.

And in Clint's world, that meant hiding in the vents to make sure he was… and it only had a little to do with making sure Tony and Bruce didn't accidentally kill him.

With their track record, it wouldn't surprise him.

"So, if you create Ultron, it will be able to protect the world, basically?" Clint really had no idea what the group had been talking about. He hadn't been paying much attention to their words.

"Ultron is a fantasy," Bruce responded lightly.

Tony rolled his eyes, "One day, Ultron will live. I just have to figure out how to-"

Clint was tired of listening to it. He reached up and turned off his hearing aids. The three were much more tolerable when they were babbling on about science. He tilted his head lightly as he peered down at them.

They were surrounding a table, staring at a hologram of… something. Clint really didn't know what it was, and he didn't feel like asking. Besides, they didn't even know he was there, so it was better to just keep quiet.

Tony pointed at something, and Peter seemed to be deep in thought, a look of amazement covering his face. Bruce argued about something. Tony argued back. Peter watched. Clint decided that Peter was fine and made his way back to his room.

* * *

It took Peter until right before dinner to actually finish his homework. Every time he sat down to do it, he was dragged away by someone. He was lucky that he managed to get it done before dinner, however, as the moment they all finished eating, Natasha suggested that they have a movie night.

Well, more like demanded.

Peter found himself dragged into the living room and forced to sit on the couch while everyone argued over to what to watch. Clint wanted to watch Spy Kids 4 ("Representation," Clint cried). Natasha argued that they needed to watch Carrie, something that got shot down immediately.

"Peter's only fifteen!" Bucky argued.

Peter had attempted to argue back that it was fine, when Natasha responded, "Carrie was only fifteen!"

"Actually, she was seventeen," Bruce spoke up.

"It's rated R," Steve cut in, "We need to wait until we have Aunt May's permission."

Peter just groaned.

Tony vehemently argued for Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles ("It's a classic. But the 90's one. We have to introduce it to Capsicle and Winter Grandpa to it.)

Peter had been the one to shoot that down, because he was _not_ sitting through that horrible movie again.

Bucky suggested The Breakfast Club, and they almost chose it after realizing that Steve had never seen it (he wasn't that into movies) but they ended up choosing Inside Out, which was Sam's suggestion.

"Dad, come on," Clint said teasingly, nudging Steve, "I can't believe you haven't seen this movie. You don't even have an excuse."

"Dad? Don't you mean grandpa?" Natasha quipped.

Peter smirked as Bruce put the movie in.

Later, after the movie was over, Sam tried to get them all to "talk about their feelings", which ended with Tony practically bolting towards the lab and everyone else deciding that they were going to go ahead and go to bed.

Peter, of course, had no such luxury. Queens wasn't going to protect itself.

* * *

" _Peter, baby, it will be okay. I just need you to relax."_

 _He whimpered, jerking out of the man's grasp as the needle came towards him, "Don't wanna!"_

" _Shh, baby," comforting fingers ran through his hair, "It'll be okay. Just relax. We're just testing some things, okay?"_

" _No!" he pulled his arm away again, brown eyes wide and watery, "No! It hurts, daddy! No more!"_

 _His father made a small noise of annoyance, grabbing Peter's arm tightly, "Pete, don't you want to be strong? I can make you strong, baby."_

 _Peter shook his head quickly, a tear running down his cheek, "No. I don't want to be strong."_

 _His father didn't seem to hear him, though, as he brought the needle towards Peter's exposed skin. He tried to pull away, but the man was much stronger than him. He felt the needle slide into his skin and cried out. The liquid was pushed in, and for a moment, all he felt was numb. And then the burning started._

 _He thrashed wildly, screaming at the pain that clawed its way through his arms and into his entire body. There were shouts around him, and someone was grabbing his arms, trying to keep him still._

" _Peter! Peter, calm down."_

 _He tried to pull away, but all he could manage was another strangled scream._

" _Peter! Pe_ ter. Peter! Wake up, son!"

That wasn't his father's voice.

His eyes snapped open, scream dying in his throat. Steve was above him, hands on his shoulders, shaking him awake. He looked tired, and startled, and Peter stared.

"Steve?"

A sigh of relief. Steve gently pulled away, running a hand through his hair. Peter followed him with his eyes, breathing heavily. His nightmare (or had it been a memory?) was still echoing around his mind.

"S-Sorry," Peter stuttered, eyes wide. He pulled himself into a sitting position, unconsciously pulling his legs towards his chest, "Sorry for waking you."

"Don't worry about it. Not your fault," Steve assured him, eyes kind. He patted his arm, "We all have our fair share of nightmares. Tony programmed JARVIS to get me if anyone's nightmares gets really bad."

Peter gave a slight nod. That fact interested him. He hadn't thought that anyone else had nightmares. Peter normally didn't. Sometimes, he would dream about his Uncle Ben, or nightmares of his aunt or Gwen dying. There were odd times, like this one, where he would dream about his father.

He didn't know where those came from. It made him sick to think about. His father had never done those things to him. Of course, Peter barely remembered him. They had both left when he was only five.

They hadn't hurt him, though. He knew that. They wouldn't.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Steve asked, breaking Peter out of his thoughts. His head snapped back to the man, "I've found that it helps if you talk about it."

Peter shook his head and lied, "I don't even remember. It was probably something stupid."

Steve didn't look like he believed him, but he nodded, "Well, if you remember and want to talk about it, my room's always open."

"Thanks, Steve," Peter said with a small smile.

Sometimes, Peter could really see what the team meant by Steve being the father of the team. He didn't remember his father much, but he hoped that he had been like Steve. He really hoped he had been.

"I think that I'm going to go back to bed," Peter said, though he knew that he wouldn't be able to. Not after that dream, "I have school tomorrow."

Steve nodded, patted his arm lightly, and left the room. Peter huffed lightly, pulling his covers up to his chest. He felt guilty for waking Steve, especially for something as childish as a nightmare. At least the other ones had nightmares that were probably understandable. He was pretty sure dreams about his father experimenting on him (things that definitely weren't true) didn't qualify under that.

He stared at the wall for a long moment, mind racing and heart beating quickly. Guilt clung at his skin and he mentally apologized to his father. He wasn't sure where he was, but he'd long since realized that wherever he was, he was probably dead, and here Peter was, making up crazy scenarios in his mind that never happened. His father had loved him before they had left him at his Aunt and Uncle's house, and he knew that they had to have had a good reason for doing so.

Shaking his head to try and clear his thoughts, he decided to read a book until his alarm went off. He needed something to distract him from his own mind.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Almost there, guys. I hope you liked this chapter! Sam's finally cooking, and Lucy is pregnant! Lucy's pregnancy was actually the first plotline that I thought of, even before coming up with the big event that will occur in Chapter 10.**

 **This chapter has a lot of foreshadowing about future plots, though they won't happen in this story.**

 **Next Chapter, Peter finally meets Thor, and he goes on his first mission!**


	8. And The World Explodes

**Warning: Violence and bombs in this chapter.**

* * *

It was only a few days later that Peter met Thor.

He'd been wondering where he was. He'd heard many stories about him, but Thor had never showed up. Even when the Avengers had a mission, he was never there. Tony had complained a few times that he couldn't contact him. Peter had heard him mumbling about Thor losing his phone quite a few times.

So, he'd been a bit surprised when, in the middle of dinner one day, lightning suddenly stroke outside of the tower. Peter jumped in surprise, as he was sure it had been a fairly clear day.

"Oh, that man is so overdramatic," Natasha huffed as the Avengers got to their feet.

Peter was just about to question what was going on when a man walked into the tower. He was tall and built, with long blonde hair and blue eyes and carrying a large, infamous hammer.

Thor.

"My friends!" the man exclaimed cheerfully, walking over to where they were standing near the dinner table, "I apologize for my absence. I was needed on Asgard."

"Oh, it's fine, Thor," Steve said with a smile as he was pulled into a hug. Peter watched the scene from the table as the Avengers greeted the man, "I hope it went well."

Thor nodded, "It did, indeed. Now, I would love to meet this SpiderChild that I've heard so much about."

Spiderchild? Oh no. Not another one.

Clint grinned widely at the nickname, and Peter just knew that he was going to be using it whenever he could, "Of course. He's right over there."

Peter stood up to shake the man's hand, but found himself suddenly pulled into a tight hug. Surprised, he shot a look at Steve, who was holding back a laugh. He gave the man a hug back, feeling incredibly awkward.

Thor pulled away, smiling widely, "I must see you fight. You must be a brave warrior."

He blushed and tried to gently refuse, because he had to get to his patrol. He didn't have time to show off.

Of course, he was ignored, and he found himself pulled off into the gym, dressed in his Spider-Man uniform and facing off against Thor. After a while of training, Peter had moved off from Natasha, as Steve wanted him to get a feel for different types of fighting styles. He hadn't faced off against Thor, obviously, and he was a little worried.

"Alright, you can use your web shooters, Peter," Steve said as he looked at them, "Thor, you can use your hammer, but be careful. Peter still has to go on patrol later and he can't do that with any broken bones."

Thor nodded, seeming to understand completely. Peter stood in front of him. He was nervous but he refused to show it. Seriously, though, he was about to fight _Thor_. He had a reason to be nervous.

And then, the fight began. Peter's spidey sense warned him just in time to dodge the hammer that Thor threw at him. Peter, in response, shot out his webs at the man's face. They latched onto the skin, but Thor pulled them off.

Wow. Peter hadn't met anyone who could do that yet. Even Steve had trouble pulling off the webs.

He dodged Thor as a fist came towards him and did a back flip to get farther away, shooting webs at his feet. It made him just a bit slower, giving him enough time to jump in and get a quick punch to the man's gut and then jump back out of the line of fire.

As the fight continued on, Peter got hit quite a few times and, in the end, Thor won the fight. Peter had known that would happen. The only people that he could win in a fight was Bruce and Tony, and that was only if they weren't using their powers/suit (of course, Bruce never used his, so Peter always beat him).

He hopped to his feet, breathing heavily. Thor smiled widely, "You are a valiant warrior, Man of Spiders."

Man of Spiders. It was better than Spiderchild, he guessed.

* * *

The next day found the Avengers (Minus Tony, who disappeared into his lab, and Steve, who was at the gym) sitting around in the living room, fighting over the remote. Natasha and Clint were manhandling the object, each desperate to get it out of each other's grasp. Peter thought that it made them look like children and so, he decided to reclaim his position as the youngest and shoot a web at the remote, yanking it from their grasp.

They glared at him. He simply smiled as he flipped through the channels.

Thor walked in, carrying a variety of different snacks, and sat down next to Peter. He lay his hammer on the table and Peter found himself observing it mildly. He had seen how Thor had handled the hammer, almost as if it was weightless. Yet, it definitely didn't look light.

"Hey," Clint suddenly piped up, peering at Thor's hammer with interest, "Can I try?"

"Be my guest," Thor responded, waving his hands towards the hammer.

Clint practically leaped off the couch, heading towards the hammer. Peter watched curiously as the man's fingers wrapped around it. A look of concentration appeared on his face as he suddenly pulled with all his might.

Nothing.

Frowning, the man pulled again, even harder, but the hammer didn't budge.

"Well, looks like you're not worthy," Natasha responded, smirking at him as he came back and sat down. She got to her feet, "We all know where this is going, but I might as well try."

It didn't move. It was as if the hammer was glued to the table. Peter stared at it, eyebrows raised.

Bruce replaced Natasha and Peter watched in amusement as, when the hammer refused to budge, he pretended to Hulk out. Once he realized that he wasn't getting any reactions out of anyone he awkwardly went back over to his chair. Peter gave him a small thumbs up in an attempt to cheer him up.

Sam didn't have any other results, though it wasn't for lack of effort. Peter snickered to himself lightly.

"Oh, you think it's funny?" Sam asked in mock anger, looking at Peter, "Why don't you try?"

He was suddenly nervous. He got to his feet, shuffling over to the hammer. Sam took his seat as Peter's fingers wrapped around it. He took a deep breath, and pulled.

It lifted up about half an inch, and then pulled itself back down to the table.

He glanced up, a bit surprised that it had moved at all, and a bit disappointed that it hadn't lifted all the way.

Thor was staring in shock.

"Well, that didn't work," he responded with a shrug as he took his place back beside Thor.

Everyone stared at him. Clint whispered something in Natasha's ear. Sam was smirking, looking impressed. Peter wasn't sure that he understood what was so interesting.

"What?"

* * *

Peter was in the kitchen, working on his homework with Bruce. The man often helped him with his homework, even though Peter didn't really need it. He liked it, though. Never before had he had someone to do that. His Aunt May had looked over it when he was little but she never really understood it when he got into the AP classes and had always been too busy to actually work on it with him.

He wondered if, had his parents never disappeared, he would have done his homework with his father.

He'd been thinking about his parents a lot more than usual, lately. He was pretty sure it was because of that nightmare that he had had. He felt rather guilty for having it. His father didn't deserve that.

"Hey, you missed number eight."

Peter snapped back to attention, glancing back down. Oh, he had. He'd gotten lost in his thoughts and wrote down the wrong number. Quickly, he erased it, filling in the correct answer, and Bruce nodded in approval.

Tony suddenly walked in, and Peter glanced up in surprise. Normally, Tony was holed up in his lab at this time of day.

"Mission Alert," Tony announced as he walked in, "Just got off the phone with Fury. We need to be down to get briefed in fifteen minutes."

Sam, who was in the middle of cooking dinner, cursed lightly under his breath. He turned off the stove, "Guess we'll order out later."

Bruce stood up, heading to go grab his things. Peter sighed, going back to his homework, before Tony spoke up again, "Oh, and Peter, you're coming this time."

His head snapped up to him again and a grin spread over his lips, "Really?"

"Really," Tony said with a nod, "Steve's cleared you for missions. Go get suited up."

And so, this found Peter and the rest of the Avengers sitting in a fairly large room, surrounding a table with Fury sitting at the end. Peter was seated between Natasha and Steve and he was practically vibrating with excitement.

His first mission.

This was like, an official initiation into being an Avenger.

It was pretty much the first public announcement that Spider-Man was now an Avenger.

Everyone was going to know.

This was awesome… though he did feel a bit guilty for leaving Bucky alone.

"We discovered a HYDRA base," Fury told them, fingers tapping a folder before sliding it over to Steve, "We have reason to believe that they have hostages and are possibly performing human experimentation. We need the Avengers to get in and take them out."

Peter shivered at the mention of human experimentation. Honestly, he didn't know why that nightmare was effecting him so much.

He tried to glance over and see the folder, but he couldn't. Steve's eyes skimmed through it, looking pensive. Peter had a feeling that he was thinking about Bucky.

He nodded after a moment, handing the folder over to Tony, "We can do it."

* * *

Peter had his orders. He was to stay out the battle as much as he could and use his webs from afar. This would not only give him the element of surprise, but also, he knew, would keep him out of most of the danger.

That was annoying, but he knew that he needed to do what Steve said. He did not feel like getting kicked off the team after his first mission.

So, he used his webs to pull himself into a fairly tall and sturdy tree near the facility. Tony and Sam were flying around it, looking for entrances and exits. Clint was in a nearby tree, bow and arrow at the ready. He could see Natasha on the ground, ready to run in. Steve, as well, was waiting for the signal from Tony and Sam. Thor stood nearby Peter, hammer held securely in his hands. Bruce, once it was clear that the Hulk wouldn't be able to do much, had been sent back to the tower.

A voice spoke up through the communication system that they were on. Peter held his ear unconsciously, listening to Tony, "There's a lot of entrances. We've got one on the-"

He cut himself off with a curse.

"Language!" Steve admonished, but it was quickly clear that Tony had a reason to be cursing, as HYDRA agents had exited the building and were now shooting at Tony and Sam.

"Spider-Man, can you try and get their guns?" Steve asked him. Because of his position on the ground, he was unable to see the men very well.

He nodded the affirmative, then remembered that Steve couldn't see him, "I got it," he said as he jumped off the tree, landing on the roof of the building. Taking a deep breath, he quickly and quietly made his way over to the edge of the building where he had seen the men shooting.

He shot his web at the man's gun and effortlessly yanked it out of his hands. The man turned, eyes wide as he caught sight of him, and he yelled something in German.

Holding the man's gun in his hand, Peter smirked under the mask, "Didn't expect that, did you?"

"Spider-Man, leave the gun on the roof," Sam told him from the air, "There isn't an entrance up there so they won't be able to get it."

Feeling a bit put out that he wasn't able to carry the weapon around, he gently turned the safety on and set it to the side.

There were quite a few more agents coming out of the building. The Avengers, knowing that Peter wasn't going to be able to disarm all of these, sprang into action.

Peter saw Clint shooting off several arrows at agents and Natasha made her way into the building, fighting off the agents with her own hands. Steve followed. Peter knew that they were going to rescue any hostages, while the rest of them did their best with the agents.

He wasn't really used to fighting from on top of a roof. There was nowhere to stick his webs to, so he couldn't swing down. Instead, he focused on disarming as many people as possible. He shot webs out at their weapons, pulling them back towards him and laying them to the side. Soon, he had a rather large amount of guns surrounding him. It was a bit disconcerting.

"We need a little help inside," Steve called into the comm.

"Spider-Man, help them inside," Tony said, not even hesitating as he blasted an agent who had shot at Clint's tree. Thor swung his hammer at one, causing them to fly backwards.

It was clear to Peter that they could handle it outside, so he searched for an opening on the battle field and hopped down onto the ground. He dodged a bullet as he ran in and kicked someone who attempted to grab him. His web attached itself to the roof, allowing him to swing inside and past what seemed like hundreds of agents.

His heart was racing. He had never fought against so many people before.

He knocked out quite a few people as he passed by. Apparently, HYDRA agents relied a whole lot on their guns, and his spidey sense allowed for him to dodge those fairly easily.

"Spider-Man," Steve barked, "There are hostages. Check behind closed doors that have names on the front. That's where they are mostly being held. Get them out."

"You got it, Cap," he responded as he punched another agent, knocking them out. He could see a door nearby with a name etched onto the front but he couldn't go there with all these agents around.

About five minutes later, he had successfully knocked all of the agents out. Satisfied, he swung over to the door. It was locked, but Peter was strong enough to knock the door down with a few good kicks.

The room was dark.

That was the first thing that Peter realized as he walked in. It was dark and _quiet,_ almost eerily so. He walked in, careful to pay attention to his surroundings. His spidey sense was quiet, though.

He heard a sniffle nearby and froze, turning. Someone yelped as he faced them and his eyes adjusted to the dark, spotting a figure huddled on a bed.

"Hello," he said softly, knowing that the person was terrified. As he neared, it became obvious that this wasn't just a person, this was a child, probably not even ten, "I'm Spider-Man."

The child didn't respond. It was a little boy, he realized, with dark skin and large brown eyes that stared at him fearfully. There was bandages up and down his arms that were bleeding slightly and he was shaking and crying.

"I'm here to rescue you," he said slowly, not wanting to scare him. He walked closer, "Can you tell me your name?"

There was a hesitance in the child's voice, "Isaiah."

He smiled, though he knew the kid couldn't see it through the mask, "Okay, Isaiah. I'm going to get you out of here, okay? I'm going to need you to walk, though. Can you do that?"

Isaiah nodded, his entire body shaking as he stood up. Peter frowned at the clothes he was wearing. It looked like white pajamas, though they had long since been stained with blood and grime.

Gently, Peter put a hand on the boy's shoulder. He couldn't imagine what he'd been through. Actually, he could. His mind flashed back to his nightmare.

"Alright, if you see anyone in the halls, tell me, okay?" he said as he guided the child to the door. He nodded shakily, eyes wide and scared.

He spoke into the comm, "There's a kid. I'm getting him out now."

"A kid?" Steve sounded horrified, "Get him out. Falcon, give him a clear path when he gets out there."

Sam gave an affirmative noise. Peter, one hand on the boy's shoulder, made his way quickly out of the room. His eyes scanned the hallways, looking for agents but finding none. Actually, he couldn't even find the agents that he had knocked unconscious.

What was going on?

"Uh, Cap?" he spoke up in concern. Beside him, Isaiah was tense, "Where'd the agents go?"

"Not sure," Steve responded, "Iron Man?"

There was a pause and he came on the comm. It was filled with static, as if it had been damaged, and he sounded pained, "A whole bunch of them came running out a few minutes ago. A helicopter appeared and started shooting at us. Hawkeye has been injured. So has Falcon. They got away."

He heard Natasha curse over the comm. Steve didn't get onto her for this one.

"We're coming out with the hostages," Steve said, "Get them to the quinjet."

Peter, knowing that the situation was desperate, quickened his pace. He kept a firm grip on Isaiah, who seemed to have calmed down immensely upon realizing that there was no agents nearby.

As they passed by a door, however, Peter heard an odd noise coming from inside. Worried that there could be another hostage, he paused in his steps to inspect the room.

There wasn't a hostage in the room.

There was a bomb.

It was counting down, and was already at 10 seconds.

Now it was his turn to curse.

"Bomb," he shouted, "Get out!" Knowing that he had no time to dismantle it (and he didn't even know how if he tried), he lifted Isaiah into his arms, shot off his webs, and swung down the hall as fast as he could. He could hear chaos in his ear as everyone took that in.

It went off just as he reached the door. Instinctively, he curled his body around the child as the world around them exploded, and faded to black.

* * *

 **Authors Note: ... Oops? It's my first cliffhanger of the story. Don't kill me.**

 **Alright, so I want to make something clear real quick. This story is setting up for the next one. There's not a solid plot through this, other than Peter coming to stay with the Avengers, and the reason is because it is explaining backstory. A Different Kind of Rescue, which will be the next story, has a distinct plot through out. After that story, I'll have A Different Kind of Ultron (which, you guys probably know what that one will be about).**

 **Only two more chapters. The next chapter will have a cliffie as well, I'm just going to warn you.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	9. What Goes Up

Peter woke up slowly.

The first thing that he noticed was that he was laying on a bed. It was warm and soft, but he immediately knew that it wasn't his own bed.

The second thing that he noticed was that his entire body ached.

A small moan escaped his lips. What happened? He couldn't remember.

"Peter."

A voice was speaking. Someone had their hand on his arm and he breathed out, trying to pry his eyes open. It took a lot of effort, but he finally managed to open them.

He was in a… hospital? That couldn't be right. He couldn't be in a hospital. They would notice his healing and figure out that he was Spider-Man and-

"Peter."

His eyes snapped over to the side. Steve was sitting in a chair, looking worried. He wasn't dressed in his suit, rather in sweats and a white t-shirt.

Slowly, Peter's memories came back to him. The mission. The child. The bomb.

"Hey," he spoke. His voice was raspy, which surprised him. He coughed and suddenly found a glass of water near his mouth. He lifted his arm, briefly surprised to find it covered in bandages, and sipped at the water.

Once he was satisfied, he gently sat the cup on a table next to the bed. His arms ached, but it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.

"What happened after, uh, the bomb?" he asked, voice soft.

Steve gave him a smile, "Well, you saved that boy's life. When we found you two, you had taken the brunt of the blast. We got you two here to SHIELD medical. He sustained some burns, but he was mostly okay. Apparently, his father was one of the agents there and they had been experimenting on him for a while, but none of it had worked."

Peter flinched lightly at that. His father had experimented on him. He pushed away the nightmare.

"We were able to contact his grandmother and she took him in, so you don't need to worry about him. You… were pretty bad off, although not as bad as you could have been. You've been unconscious for three days now."

"Three days!?"

Steve nodded, "Bruce said that your body was healing."

That made sense. He knew that when he was injured, he slept longer than he usually did. He healed faster when he was asleep.

"What about Clint and Sam?" he asked, because he could distinctly remember that they had been injured. Tony had told them that. Worry spread through his body.

"They're okay. Clint got hit in the shoulder by a bullet, and Sam was knocked out of the sky. We thought he broke his ankle, but he just sprained it pretty badly. They'll be out of commission for a while."

Peter sighed in relief, nodding, "Good."

His eyes gently moved across the room. He wondered where everyone else was. What time was it? Wait. What did they tell Aunt May?

He turned to him and voiced his question aloud. Steve smiled fondly, "We told her the truth. She was here earlier. She refused to leave your side for the first two days. We made her go home and rest for a while. She'll probably be furious that you decided to wake up while she was gone."

Peter laughed softly. That was probably true. He wondered about everyone else.

As if reading his mind, Steve started talking, "Bruce has been at the tower, forcing Sam and Clint to rest. Tony's locked himself in his lab again. He's working on your new suit. The other one was… it was ruined."

Peter sighed. He should have expected that, but it still hurt. He worked hard on that suit, and he was pretty sure that he wasn't going to be able repair it after this. Hopefully, whatever suit that Tony came up with worked well.

It was Tony. He was pretty sure it would work well, and even more. Now that he knew that he couldn't put so much armor on it that Peter couldn't move, he would probably come up with something spectacular.

He was suddenly feeling rather tired, though. Steve seemed to notice this, as he spoke up, "Go to sleep. Your Aunt May will probably be here when you wake up."

And with that, he slipped off into unconsciousness.

* * *

When Peter woke up, he felt better than before. The ache had ebbed away. It was still there, of course, but not as much as before. It was easier to move.

Aunt May had replaced Steve by the side of his bed. He smiled at her as she, upon seeing his open eyes, immediately moved towards him.

"Are you okay? Are you in pain?"

"I'm fine," he said quickly, not wanting her to worry. Of course he was in pain. He wasn't going to let her know that, though, "How are you?"

She laughed, shaking her head, "I'm not the one who was injured."

Of course Peter knew that. He also knew how much his aunt could worry. He hated worrying her. That was one of the reasons why he had avoided telling her that he was Spider-Man before Coulson ruined that.

Of course, he couldn't really blame Coulson anymore. He loved his life at the moment, danger and all. He never would have met the Avengers had Coulson not done what he had. No matter how annoying they could get, Peter knew that he had found his family.

Although, he suddenly felt guilty. He had barely seen his Aunt since arriving at the Avengers tower over a month prior. Of course, he'd talked to her on the phone and sent her messages on how he was doing, and he'd even stopped by her house a few times, but he hadn't really talked to her in a while.

He had been practically ignoring his Aunt, who had done everything for him. She had taken him in when his parents had left him at their house. She had fed him and clothed him and loved him and raised him on her own after Uncle Ben's death. He was a horrible nephew.

He had to make it up to her.

"Hey, I should be healed up pretty well by next Saturday," he said suddenly, glancing over at her, "How about we have dinner together? We haven't really spoken lately."

Her eyes lit up and a smile graced her face. She nodded, "I would love that, Peter. I want to hear all about your adventures with the Avengers."

He was surprised by that. Honestly, he had expected his Aunt to try and convince him to stop being an Avenger and come home. Confused, he voiced his question.

She laughed softly, "I know that you wouldn't do that. Besides, Steve told me that you saved that little boy. I couldn't be prouder of you."

A smile spread over his face. Yes, he wouldn't trade this for the world.

* * *

The next time Peter woke up, it was Natasha who was in the room. She was seated next to Peter, rubbing her forehead as if she had a really bad headache. Beside her sat a huge stuffed… Bing Bong.

Peter found himself staring at the Inside Out character. There were so many questions racing through his mind. Why was there a stuffed Bing Bong by his bed? Why was it so big? Who brought it in?

Luckily, Natasha noticed that he was awake and answered his questions, "It was Clint's idea," she explained, "He asked Tony to order a stuffed Bing Bong, because apparently he thought you would like it. Tony Tony-sized it."

That made sense, he guessed, though he still had no idea why Clint would have thought he would have wanted a stuffed Bing Bong. He'd only seen the movie a few times, and only once with the Avengers, and while he had liked it alright, he didn't know what had made Clint feel like he needed this.

"Okay…" he said slowly, pushing himself into a sitting position, "How are they doing, anyway?"

Natasha smirked lightly, "Clint's been brooding around the tower because Steve won't let him train while he's recovering and Tony's been in his lab 24/7, working on that suit of yours. Everyone's doing pretty well, though, other than that."

He nodded, smiling lightly as he thought about Clint brooding. He pushed himself into a sitting position and was surprised as he realized that he wasn't in as much pain as before. Actually, he felt pretty good.

A sudden thought hit him and his eyebrows furrowed, "Wait, what are we telling my school?"

"Bucky called them and said you had the flu," Natasha explained, "We've already got a doctor's note ready."

Peter knew that the note wasn't real. It was obviously forged. He wondered how they got Steve to agree to that. He also knew not to argue, because he needed that note.

Man, he was going to have a lot of work to catch up on. That was going to suck.

"When do I get to go to the tower?"

"I heard they're releasing you tomorrow."

Good. Peter hated hospitals.

* * *

Natasha was right. Peter was brought back to the tower the next day, something that he was eternally grateful for. Steve arrived early in the day and Happy took the two of them back home.

Home. When had he started thinking of the tower as home?

He quickly realized that they had been telling the truth about the fact that Tony had practically locked himself in his lab. When he had arrived, he had found Sam baking a cake in the kitchen (sitting in a chair, due to his ankle) and Clint and Natasha watching some old movie in the living room. Bucky had been in his room, but he and Lucy had come out when they heard that Peter had arrived. When he asked where Bruce was, he was informed that the man was helping Tony in the lab with some finishing touches.

He didn't have long to think about what was going on in the lab before Tony came bounding out of the elevator. The dark circles that seemed to be a constant under his eyes were even more pronounced and he looked like he hadn't slept in days, but also looked incredibly energized. Coffee would do that.

"Peter!" he announced cheerfully, putting one arm around him, "You're going to love it."

And with that, he was whisked down to Tony's lab. Bruce was already there, and his suit was as well.

It looked almost exactly the same as his old one, except just a bit thicker. Peter let out a small sigh of relief.

Tony immediately began speaking and Bruce stepped out of the way to let the genius walk around to point things out.

"So, we decided to keep the design, because it's pretty infamous. It also allows for the same amount of flexibility that you need, and has no extra weight that will keep you down," he explained, eyes bright with excitement, "It's stronger, however. This one will keep you safe from fire, unlike the other one. That suit was just sad when we found you. Anyways, it should protect you more from sharp objects and won't tear as easily as your last suit. It's not bullet proof, yet. I'm working on that."

Honestly, Peter was extremely relieved. The suit looked perfect. It would definitely protect him from more attacks, which was good, but Tony hadn't gone overboard like Peter had thought he would. He was still going to be able to do his flips and tricks that Natasha had taught him without any problems.

Tony glanced at him with a smirk, "Want to try it on?"

"Definitely."

* * *

Peter had only been home for a few days when Steve got the phone call.

It was at dinner on a Friday night, the day before Peter and his Aunt May were to meet up. The Avengers were surrounding the table, arguing, as they often did.

"Look, I am not going to have twenty dogs around the tower," Tony huffed, stabbing his steak with his fork, "We are not going to keep the puppies."

"Oh, come on," Clint rolled his eyes and laughed, "I bet Lucy will have six, which would be the perfect number. One for you, one for Steve, one for Nat, one for Sam, one for Bruce, and one for Petey."

Tony's eyes narrowed, "If I wanted a dog, I could build one."

"Yeah, I'm good," Sam added in, "I love dogs and all, but I'm on Tony's side. Having eight dogs running around would be a pain."

Peter piped up, "Well, we can't just give them away. I've heard horror stories of animals given away in Walmart Parking Lots."

"What about Xavier's school?" Bruce asked, "I'm sure the kids would like to have some puppies running around."

They all laughed at that, though Steve thought it was a good idea.

Despite the fact that they were all arguing, Steve watched the scene with fondness. The team had definitely grown on him ever since they had first formed, and the additions of Sam and Peter, and kind of Bucky, had gone by smoothly. Sure, they all still had problems that they were dealing with. Steve, having somehow turned into the team dad, was usually the one to help if someone had a nightmare, and he'd seen all of the member's at their worst.

He understood them, and he knew that things had greatly improved for them since they had come together. Being alone always made things worse, after all. Steve knew that. He had seen what it had done to his team. He knew that they all needed each other.

So, as he watched as they all interacted, arguing over the puppies, he smiled to himself. Everything had fallen into place just right. He never imagined that he would be part of such an odd family, but he was glad that he was.

When his cell phone rang, everyone suddenly fell into silence. The sound pierced through the conversation as if someone had stabbed it and Steve felt a shiver run down his spine.

He knew something was wrong before he even answered.

"Hello?"

"Steve. It's Coulson. I have some bad news."

* * *

 **Author's Note: So, this chapter was shorter than I planned. Sorry! Hope you guys enjoyed it, anyway. I probably won't be able to get the last chapter out until Sunday or Monday but be ready for it. It will be filled with angst. Seriously, I hate myself for what I am about to do, but it is necessary for the story.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	10. Must Come Down

**WARNING: Character Death, mentioned car accident and drunk driving.**

* * *

Steve was on his feet the moment that the words rang through the phone, "What do you mean?"

There was slight hesitance before he continued, "May Parker was involved in an accident. She was coming home from the grocery store when she was hit by a drunk driver. SHIELD's had eyes on her since Peter came to live with you guys, so we knew immediately. It doesn't look good, Steve. You need to get Peter down to the hospital to say goodbye."

He felt dread flood through his body as his eyes darted over to Peter. The teenager sucked in a breath, eyes wide and horrified. He could tell that he had already figured out that something was wrong.

"We'll be right there," Steve said before hanging up.

"What's wrong?" Peter demanded immediately.

Steve took a deep breath and placed a soothing hand on the boy's shoulder, "Your Aunt's in the hospital. There was an accident."

Peter was on his feet before Steve could even finish the first sentence. Immediately, the boy was rushing to the elevator, not even looking to see if they were following.

Of course, they followed. All of them were behind him. Their youngest had a problem and they were, and would always, be standing with him through it.

* * *

In Peter's eyes, they couldn't get to the hospital fast enough.

It didn't matter that Tony had ordered Happy to break every traffic law in existence. It didn't matter that they had somehow managed to get there in less than ten minutes.

Every second felt like an hour and every minute felt like a year. He sat in the back of the car, foot tapping nervously, chewing on his thumb nail, eyes darting everywhere. Dread seeped through his veins and the moment they reached the hospital, he darted out of the car. The only one who could keep up with him is Steve.

He didn't remember asking the lady at the desk where his aunt was. He didn't remember walking to the room.

He did remember opening the door and practically crumbling at the sight.

"She was hit by a drunk driver on her way home from the store. The doctors have done all they can," someone, he wasn't sure who, told him, "But it doesn't look good."

He found the seat next to her bed, heart in his throat. His eyes ran over her broken body and a sob escaped his throat. He found her hand, the only part of her body that didn't seem injured, and took it in his own. Her skin was cold.

There was a heart monitor nearby. The beeping reassured him that she was still there and he tried to block everything else around him besides Aunt May and the machine. Despite this, he could hear Tony in the background, loudly proclaiming that he would get the best doctors money could buy. Sam had a comforting hand on his shoulder. Steve was speaking quietly with Bruce nearby.

Everything was just too much. He did his best to hold back his tears, not wanting to seem weak in front of his team, but it was _hard_. His Aunt couldn't be laying here. This wasn't right. She had always been strong. She had always been there.

"Please," he found himself whispering, a tear running down his cheek as he stared at her face. There was an oxygen mask over her pale skin and it was just so _wrong_ , "Aunt May, _please_. I can't… I can't lose you, too. I can't lose you."

The room fell quiet as he spoke, but he didn't pay it any mind. His entire focus was on his Aunt May. He couldn't think of anything else except that she was hurt and dying and he couldn't do anything.

With all of the powers that he possessed, he couldn't do anything to stop this. This was out of his control. Everything that he had done to keep her safe had been for nothing because it wasn't anything that had to do with him being Spider-Man that would take her from him.

"Please don't leave me, Aunt May."

She didn't respond.

An hour later, she flat lined and Peter was pulled from her bed as doctors rushed in.

They weren't able to revive her.

* * *

"Tony, take everyone back to the tower," Steve spoke quietly. They were standing outside the hospital, waiting for Happy to pick them up, "Peter and I will come back later. I need to talk to him."

Tony nodded, understanding immediately. It was obvious to all of them that the teenager was on the verge of a break down.

Peter was sitting on the ground, back pressed up against the wall of the building. His eyes were glazed over with unshed tears and he was staring at nothing. Steve knew that the boy was in shock. It hadn't really hit him yet.

Being his Aunt's last of kin, he was going to have a lot of decisions to make in the next few days. He was going to have to work out the funeral and contact his Aunt's friends.

There was also the big custody problem.

Gently, Steve kneeled down in front of him, "Hey, Peter," he said softly, breaking the boy out of his thoughts, "Let's take a walk, okay?"

Peter nodded and stood up, as if on autopilot. He probably was.

He put a hand on his arm and gently guided him in the direction of a nearby park. There wasn't many people there at this time of night and they quickly found an open bench.

"It's going to be okay, Peter," Steve told him softly as they sat down, and that was when the dam broke.

A sob escaped his lips, and then another, and before Steve knew it, he was breaking down. Knowing that nothing he could say would help him, Steve gently put an arm around him, offering him as much comfort as he could.

One of the reasons why he had taken Peter here was because he knew that the boy wouldn't want all of the Avengers to see him vulnerable like this. He probably didn't want Steve to see him like this either, but Steve was not able to leave him alone. He didn't even have his suit with him and Steve didn't know what kind of things he would get into in his grief. He didn't want to find out.

He held the boy as he cried. Steve knew what it was like to lose people that he loved. He understood the sorrow that the boy was going through. He knew that he needed to cry.

"I'm alone," Peter screamed, voice raw and filled with such sorrow and grief, tears streaming down his red cheeks, "She's gone. She's gone. She's gone."

Steve shook his head immediately and spoke softly, "You're not alone, Peter. You still have us. We're not going anywhere."

He didn't respond, but Steve could tell that he had heard him.

* * *

Peter and Steve didn't arrive back at the tower until fairly late at night. Peter had calmed down immensely and now he just felt numb. He stared out the window of the car as they drove back to the tower, not saying anything. He didn't remember the ride. All he knew was that they were suddenly at the tower and Steve was talking to him softly.

"Come on. We need to get inside, Peter."

His body moved as if on autopilot, following Steve up to the tower. He felt numb. He couldn't feel anything. The only thing that he could focus on one was walking and breathing.

He heard JARVIS speak as they entered the elevator, but he didn't hear what he said. He heard Steve speak as well, but the words didn't even register in his brain. He did notice that they got off at the floor that Peter shared with Bucky and Steve, which he was glad for. All he wanted to do was lay down.

The moment the elevator stopped, he walked straight for his bedroom. He paid no mind to his new suit that Tony had made. It was laying out on his chair, ready for him to go out on patrol, but Peter had no intention of it.

He his door, turned the lights on, and climbed into his bed. He put the blanket over his head, hiding himself from the world, and lay there in silence.

The numbness spread. He couldn't feel anything. He knew that it was going to hit him soon, and it would hit him harder than it had originally. For now, he just lay there, eyes closed, focusing on his breathing and willing sleep to come to him.

"Peter," a voice spoke. He recognized it as JARVIS instantly and didn't bother to move, "Sir has asked me to inform you that he has sent for SHIELD agents to put May Parker's belongings into storage until further information becomes available."

He didn't respond. The mention of his Aunt had him choked up. He tried to take a breath and it came out as a sob.

"Peter?"

The only sound that showed that he had heard the AI was his soft cries.

* * *

Steve knew that Peter would not be up to talk to the Avengers. The boy was going to need time alone for a while. So, he let the boy go to his room before heading up to the living room where he knew he would find the rest of the team. He told Peter to call him through JARVIS if he needed anything, but he wasn't sure that the boy even processed what he had said.

As he exited the elevator, he was immediately greeted by a worried Bucky. The man's eyebrows were knitted together and his arms were crossed over his chest, "Where's Peter?"

"In his room," he explained, loud enough for the rest of the team to hear. He could see Natasha on the couch, watching television and acting as if she wasn't listening to Steve's words, but he knew her better.

Sam was in the kitchen, in front of the oven. He was baking. It didn't take Steve long to realize that he had already baked a cake and some cookies, as they sat on the table, untouched. He often baked when he was upset, and seeing their youngest member upset affected all of them.

While Sam baked when upset, Steve knew that Bruce cleaned, and that was made clear by the sudden tidiness of the living room.

"Where's Clint?" he asked Bucky, as he knew that Tony would be in his room.

"He tried to bake with Sam," Bucky explained, "Didn't work out so well. Nearly caused a fire. He went out for a walk."

Steve nodded as he walked in. The earlier happy atmosphere of the living room had disappeared, leaving a dreary mood. Everyone knew that the loss of May Parker was going to hit Peter hard. She was, after all, the only family that he had left. The fifteen-year-old didn't deserve this.

He sat down beside Natasha with a sigh. She offered him a quick glance and then looked away, focusing on the television. Her face was a mask of calm and collected, but he could see the hint of worry in her eyes.

"He'll be okay," he said softly, "It might take a while, but we'll be there for him."

She nodded, "He's a strong kid," she agreed, "We'll help him."

* * *

Steve didn't sleep that night. Instead, he wandered around the tower aimlessly. Clint came back about an hour later, holding a bag of some sort. He disappeared off to his room before Steve could ask what it was. Bruce stayed up until late in the night, quietly cleaning the lab around Tony as the man through himself into whatever project he had. Bucky disappeared into his bedroom not long after Steve arrived, Lucy at his feet. Lucky wandered around for a while, following Steve, and he was glad for the company.

Eventually, however, he found himself in Tony's lab. Surprisingly, the man wasn't working on what Steve thought he would be working on. His station was clear, and he was at his computer, doing some kind of research.

"What are you doing?" Steve asked him curiously.

Tony didn't react to his entrance, having obviously been alerted by JARVIS before he entered. A moment passed before he turned to Steve and handed him a large folder.

"What's this?" he asked, eyebrows raised. He opened it up and saw the front page and he blanched.

"It's Custody Papers," Tony explained. For once, he seemed exhausted. Despite the fact that Steve knew that the man hardly ever got any sleep, he had never really seen the man look so tired.

"I can see that," he responded blandly.

Tony immediately continued explaining, "SHIELD's helping us. Peter has no family left so, by law, he should go into the system."

"The system," Steve repeated.

The other man nodded and rubbed his forehead, "Foster Care. At his age, he probably wouldn't be able to get adopted and would be in the system for the next three years. It wouldn't be good for him, especially because he's Spider-Man. He would never be able to do his patrols dealing with Foster Parents, and he'd have to leave us. We can't let that happen."

"Of course not," Steve shook his head. He was not about to let their youngest member leave, especially at a time when he was so vulnerable.

Tony continued, "One of us needs to take custody of him. I'm obviously out. No one would agree to let me take care of a kid. Clint and Natasha would never work because of their job, and I'm pretty sure they would never allow Bruce to be a father due to The Other Guy. Bucky is still technically a fugitive. Now, Sam is a good possibility, but I've already talked it over with him. We all agree that you should take custody of Peter."

"Me," he repeated, mind not processing it completely, "I should take custody of Peter."

Tony nodded slowly and sighed. He rubbed his hands together tiredly, "Yes. You already act like his father. No one would deny Captain America custody, anyway. It's perfect."

"I should take custody of Peter," he repeated slowly.

Tony glanced at him, catching his eye, "Think it over, but it really is the best thing for him right now. You'll need to make the decision tomorrow, though."

And with that, he went back to work. With a lot on his mind, Steve decided to go for a run.

He already knew what the answer was going to be, though. Of course he was going to take custody of Peter. He would never let a teammate down. He would never allow Peter to have to go through the system. He loved Peter as if he was his son.

He could do this. They could do this. Everything was going to be okay. It would take time, and healing, but they always came out on top.

They had fought aliens. They could get through this.

* * *

 **And thus concludes A Different Kind of Family.**

 **Oh my gosh, guys. I am so sorry for killing Aunt May. It's vital to the plot. This entire story lead up to this chapter and this chapter is kind of like the prologue to the next story. A Different Kind of Rescue will be out soon. I'm not sure when because I'm at my Aunt and Uncle's house and their internet is really spotty right now. That's why I wasn't able to get this up yesterday. They should be getting it fixed soon.**

 **If you have any questions, leave them in a review and I'll answer them. Keep a look out for the next story. I hope that I portrayed Peter's grief well. I was thinking back to my own Aunt's death when I wrote it and tried to base it around that. Obviously, though, Peter had a much closer relationship with his Aunt than I did, though I did live with her at the time of her death. Hopefully, I did it justice.**

 **Keep a look out for the next story.**

 **Until Next Time,**

 **Livvylane**


	11. A Different Kind of Rescue is up!

Hey guys! The first chapter to A Different Kind of Rescue it up! It's darker than the last story so head the warnings that I've posted at the top! I won't be able to update this one as fast as I did for ADKOF but I'll do my best!


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